Zombie Fallout (Book 11): Etna Station

by Mark Tufo

“Run,” I said barely above a whisper. Mad Jack was just standing there. The dozens of zombies in the general vicinity had not noticed him yet but it was only a matter of seconds. “Run!” I yelled, he looked up, his eyes pleading for help. I turned and was heading for the stairs. Winters and Justin were right behind me. By the time I got to the front door, MJ had only moved enough to try and get back into the truck.

  “This is happening because of you, Talbot!” Knox said. “And, oh yeah, I have your cool toy now!” Mad Jack fell over into the street as the truck sped away. He’d most definitely attracted the attention of the zombies now. He was sobbing on the ground.

  I didn’t have time to ask why he wasn’t running. All I could do now was try and kill all the zombies near him and see if we could attempt a rescue. Time and distance were not on our side. Even as we were killing them, more were taking their place. And as we moved forward, we realized that zombies were taking flanks to us; soon they would envelop us and cut us off from our only avenue of escape. Then I noticed something; they were within striking distance of Mad Jack, could have taken him a few times by now, yet they didn’t. That struck me as extremely fortunate…until I figured why that was. As long as he was still alive, we would keep trying to get to him and that would give the other zombies enough time to blanket us, not to mention more flesh for all. If he were to be bitten and die, there would be no sense in a rescue attempt and we’d proceed with defensive maneuvers. We were being fished and Mad Jack was the lure. I don’t know why one of the zombies jumped the gun, but he probably saved our lives–well, some of them. He bit into Mad Jack’s head, ripping away a chunk of scalp the size of a hand. Mad Jack’s scream was savage, blood poured down his face and flew from his mouth as it hit the expelling air. I shot that zombie, but the spilling of blood was too much for those around him, they dove in like sharks to chum. A lump the size of a fist formed in my throat as I watched the man be torn apart.

  I ran when Justin urged me to go, but I felt like I was in a tunnel; everything was all echo-y and surreal. He wasn’t supposed to die. He was one of the good guys, one of the people that was going to find a way to fix this world, to set it back to something approaching normal. I heard one final gurgle for life as we just made it into the house–the speeders fast on our heels.

  Tracy leaned over the railing to take out a couple of the closer ones. I pushed everyone into the master bedroom and shut the door; we could barricade for a while, at least. As expected, the door was getting slammed up against and it was not of the extra strength variety, just a common, hollow-core door. I reached for Tracy, I wanted to sob into her shoulder for a month, maybe more.

  “He was a good man,” she said to me as she gently pushed me away.

  “He was,” I said. I knew what she’d meant with those words and that action. He was indeed a good man and we would mourn for him later, but right now, there were still all the rest of us in this room that needed my utmost consideration. The problem was, I didn’t have any clue of what we needed to do or even what we could do.

  Winters went over to the window. “What about the roof?” he asked.

  “What about it?” I asked, though I already knew what he was asking. I poked my head out. It would be a stretch, but it would be possible to reach the low-hanging eave. “Look around Winters, how many of us are going to make that?”

  “What about going through the ceiling?” Justin asked as we all looked up at the drywall.

  “No access in the closet?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Hallway.”

  “Through the ceiling it is, then.”

  The door was being punished – we heard more than one crack. The only thing holding it in place was the dresser we had shoved up against it and which we were now going to have to stand on so we could rip down some drywall and make good our escape. I jabbed my knife up and through, not thrilled to be using it like this but desperate times and all, so here went the desperate measures. The dresser was rocking back and forth as the zombies kept slamming into the door. Winters and Justin were leaning in on our side attempting to keep me from being knocked off. I dropped a fist-sized chunk on top of Winters’ head. He didn’t say anything as I sawed away. Fine particles drifted down at first, and then fell away in clumps.

  “Is that vermiculite?” Winters asked.

  I didn’t say anything as I was making the hole big enough to fit us through, breathing in more dust than air just then.

  “It is!” He said, alarmed. “That could contain asbestos!”

  Right then a zombie arm blew through the door and was brushing up against my leg.

  “Time to think short-term, kid,” I told him as I shifted to avoid the dirty, scabbed over hand and arm from clenching my ankle. When the owner of that arm pulled back and decided to get a view of what he was seeking, that was when the activity out in the hallway picked up. He must have communicated to those around him that there were some live ones inside. I grabbed on to a couple of the two-by-eight joist beams that crossed the house and pulled myself up to get a better look at the attic. Couldn’t see much past the hole I’d cut out. This place made the basement look like downtown Tokyo on New Year’s.

  Justin tapped my leg with a small flashlight. I dropped down to grab it before going back up. It was as barren as the basement had been, a seven-foot wide section the entire length of the house, had some plywood down on it, at least we wouldn’t have to do a balancing act on the joists as we thought out our next plan.

  I dropped back down onto the dresser, not at all happy to see face sized holes behind it. Zombies were tearing at the door with their hands and their mouths.

  “Tracy, let’s go.”

  “The kids? The animals?” she asked.

  “I’ll need to hand them up to you.”

  She looked over at Henry.

  “I’ll send Justin up to help you when we get to him,” I told her.

  Got her through easy enough. Next was Angel, who was still crying about Mad Jack and would be for a good long time; they had developed a relationship, those two. When he wasn’t trying to figure out ways to make cold fusion bombs they could generally be found playing board games. It took Tracy longer than I’d wanted for her to walk the child over to a safe area and do her best to calm her down. I could hear her talking.

  “I’m going to bring Avalyn over to you real soon, honey. Will you be able to watch her while I get the animals up here?”

  There was now officially less of the upper half of the door still in place.

  “Tracy, no time!” I shouted up.

  She came back just as Justin handed me the baby. I was doing my best to shield her from the zombies, but she peeked around anyway. She let out a blood-curdling scream that turned into a wracked cry. But, strangely enough, I think she’d confused the hell out of the zombies because they stopped what they were doing for a moment to watch her. I took full advantage of the lull in activity. By “lull” I mean a solid minute; they just stared through the holes in the door. Could be useful; could be the beginning of the end of our friendly relationship with Avalyn, or could be something more. I would have to think on this later; maybe run it past some of the group.

  “Get the animals up first,” Carol told Winters as he helped her up.

  “That’s not really my preferred order,” I told her.

  She gave me a look and then I realized just exactly where Tracy had got her signature steely gaze. I couldn’t refuse her. Patches was easy enough, she was already on the dresser, arrogantly waiting for me to grab her. For once she didn’t hiss at me, though I think it took every bit of self-control she had. Henry was by the dresser with Riley. My dog was easier going than Trip at his calmest. He looked perfectly content to go up into the attic whenever we could get him up there and maybe catch up on a little shut-eye. Riley, on the other hand, appeared as if she was ready for a fight. I could see her saying “I’d eat those zombies, I would, Michael. But I can’t get at them from here, so let’s move.” Ben-Ben, well he was just ru
nning around in room-sized circles, God knows, thinking what. He stopped every turn or so and sniffed, probably hoping he was going to find bacon. He was going to be sorely disappointed.

  “Justin, you need to go up now. Mom can’t handle Henry by herself.”

  I don’t think Winters was all that thrilled with my need to get the animals up, but wisely said nothing.

  “Why are they just staring at us?” he asked.

  “Don’t know, don’t care.” Avalyn was no one’s business but ours.

  He grunted as he hefted Henry’s considerably bulk up as did I. We’d all trimmed the fat since the zombies came, getting supplies, stress, little food and the constant running had honed our bodies into the machines they were supposed to be and not the sedentary dumps they’d become late in the twentieth century. Not Henry, though. He seemed to be stubbornly holding onto the past, he wore his girth like a badge of honor in the face of all things apocalyptic, and I loved him even more for it. But I also thought maybe he could help a little by lifting or at least thinking light thoughts. I was grunting like a Sumo wrestler as I shoved him up through the hole like a sack of loose ground chuck. There was a brief moment where Justin teetered on the edge of being able to hoist the weight or come tumbling down.

  “I told you, Talbot, we should have got a Border Collie. But oh no you had to have the Marine Corps mascot, which makes no sense, since Marines are lean and mean and Henry is neither of those things,” Tracy said, breathing heavy from the exertion as she helped pull on Justin.

  “He can hear you!” I said, pushing his ass up.

  “Good! Maybe he’ll lay off the doughnuts.” They had finally got him up, and judging by a long throaty grunt, I don’t think he was all that thrilled by the handling. Justin walked him over to the platform.

  “Carol, you ready yet?” I asked.

  “I will not have you pushing on my backside. It is very undignified.”

  “None of this is the highlight of my life either, Carol, but getting eaten is a whole lot worse,” I told her. Yeah, that went over real fucking good. I was now caught in a cross beam of death stares. Add to that, the zombies were coming out of their stupor. Winters had to pull me away from the grip of a zombie that had gone shoulder deep through the door.

  “Grab the rat dog!” I told Winters as I did a balancing act on the edge of the dresser as far from prying hands as possible. I was thinking that the animals were in tune with us more than they ever had been because I’m telling you right now, Ben-Ben understood me. He stopped on a dime, spun toward me and growled. “Shit, sorry about that,” I told him, as Winters ran and picked him up while he was still. The dog barked happily at Winters, even gave him a little kiss, which Winters wiped off across his shoulder. But Ben-Ben growled at me as I took him in my hands. “I didn’t mean it,” I said as I handed him up. I was staring straight at his ass when he let go an eye-watering bubble of gas.

  “I don’t think he’s accepted your apology,” Justin said.

  “Like that needed to be voiced,” I told him as I wiped my face, there wasn’t actually anything there, but the smell was so cloying that it felt like there was. “Let’s go Riley.”

  Winters hoisted her up and I had her through the hole; my arms were still up over my head and I only had my heels on the dresser when it was rocked from behind. My ass landed hard on the wooden top, my neck and head swung back, dangerously close to the door as multiple hands reached out to entangle themselves with me before I unceremoniously slid forward and thumped to the floor, thoroughly battered. I’m sure most of you, at some point in your life, have fallen on to your ass and whacked yourself on the way down. It’s disorienting and sure can be painful, but there are times where it travels to whole new realms of agony.

  There was this one time–not at band camp–I was working construction. We were pulling a new phone cable through an underground conduit. One guy was feeding it and it was my job to pull it through. It sounds easy enough, but when you’re talking a few hundred feet of underground pipe, things tend to get difficult. So, there I am, I’ve got the feed cord wrapped around both of my hands, I’m leaning back at about a forty-five-degree angle using all of my muscle and mass to pull this fucking thing back. Shouldn’t be too hard to figure out what happened next. The cable snapped. All of my weight, coupled with all of my force, and then not even being able to use my hands and arms as braces meant that I impacted the cold, indifferent concrete at what felt like crotch breaking speeds. Two words: tail fucking bone.

  I wanted to get up and walk it off, but I was in serious distress, it was one of the most uniquely painful sensations I had thus far encountered in my life, and momentum was the only weapon involved. I’d never, nor have I since, had my asshole hurt like that. If I had to give words to the description, it was like someone had shoved a street pole up my ass while two someone else’s had gripped each side of my pelvis and cracked it in half like you might a crab at Red Lobster. Took fifteen minutes before I was finally able to get over the notion of an ambulance ride and further explanation to the doctors and nurses on why I had a street pole up my ass. So, yeah, I was reliving all of that as I sat on the floor wondering if this time my age might have finally shown itself and I did, indeed, break something.

  “You alright?” Winters asked, seeing my obvious distress.

  “I’m hoping I only hurt my pride,” I told him.”

  “If nothing is broke, we need to move fast; not much between us and them anymore.”

  “Carol,” I grunted. “It’s time. There’s no one else to hide behind.” I stood and then immediately hunched over, the pain wasn’t quite done with me.

  “Dad, you need me to come down?” I shot out a hand without standing up just yet.

  “I don’t want to,” she said.

  “Mom!” Tracy yelled. “Get your ass up here!”

  “I had a little bit of an accident a few days ago,” she said in defense, as if that explained everything.

  “What?” Tracy asked.

  “I threw them out,” Carol responded.

  “What are you talking about, mom?”

  “I don’t have any panties on! There, I said it. Are you happy now?!”

  “I’m definitely not happy,” I told her just beginning to tentatively stand completely up.

  “I have a dress on and no panties!”

  “Alright, we get it,” I told her. “Let’s get this done.”

  Winters expended a few bullets. The zombies were getting more bloodthirsty as they stripped the door away. “Talbot…we don’t have long.”

  “Carol, I don’t care about your bare ass. Let’s go!” Yeah, I was surly. Zombies were breaking in, my entire nether region felt like it had been Mike Tysoned, plus my mother in law was making this exponentially more dangerous. At this rate, I was unlikely to make it up there myself.

  Winters had enough. He wrapped his arms around her and hefted her onto the dresser, he joined her immediately, then got her under the hips, trapping her skirt between them and put her straight up in the air, Justin and Tracy were leaning down to pull her in, but she would not raise her arms.

  “My shoulders hurt,” was all she offered.

  I loved my mother in law, but she was pushing the boundaries of becoming a major burden. Right this very second, four people’s lives were in danger because she was being petulant. Winters was struggling to hold her up; she was exerting almost none of her own energy. I climbed up to join him.

  “Raise your fucking arms Carol or so help me God I will leave you down here,” I said almost in her ear. She must have seen something in my eyes that this wasn’t a veiled threat. Oh, she winced and moaned as she raised her arms up, making a great show of the pain she was in, but at least she did it. I know Tracy was raining down some hate stares at me, but for the love of all things holy, right this very moment I was not looking up. I was getting grabbed repeatedly and the dresser was being pushed away from the door; the latch had finally fallen out of it and now it was just a weight game an
d the zombies had more of it.

  Winters and myself were more forced off than anything, as we jumped down. I bit my tongue nearly in half in the hopes that it would keep me from feeling the pain lodged deep in my rectum. Yeah, it might be hard for you to read that, it isn’t particularly easy writing about it. I checked the magazine on my Uzi, told Winters to step back and unloaded that whole thing into the zombies. Blood, gore, brains, clothing, wall, wood, dust, hair, and maybe a unicorn or two were all splashed and splattered in a circle around the opening. Chunks of things I could not identify were raining down and slathering the top of the dresser and coating everything else.

  “You enjoy that?” Winters asked.

  “How the hell could you not?” I told him, putting it down. I had used up all the ammunition and I didn’t think Knox would be decent enough to reload me. There’s something inherently fun about shooting a shitload of bullets all at once. Not sure what it is, and I realize not everyone shares this sentiment, but for those of you that do, you know what I’m talking about. Those of you that don’t; don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. The only thing that might be better (outside of the bedroom) is watching things explode. Oh, I might have done a double entendre there; should probably just leave it alone.

  “Go.” I tapped him on the shoulder. The zombies were in disarray. I had blown back the initial few rows and the rest had not yet clambered their way to the front. He made it up with no problem. Just as I put my feet on what was left of the dresser, the door was blasted inward, the dresser toppled over, and me with it. I was able to turn enough that I didn’t land once again on my bruised behind, but where I landed was the least of my problems. Zombies were streaming in over the debris they’d created. I was pushing back with my legs, attempting to get as much traction as I could. Going for the hole in the ceiling was out of the question; going out of the room the traditional way was also a big fat No. The window was my only out. I grabbed the windowsill and pulled myself up and out in one smooth move; I stretched until I was rewarded with the lip of the gutter.