My Last Testament

by George Milonas

  I saw her move backward up the hill toward the gate. She hopped over and landed on solid ground. She moved right past me after handing me the pistol and into the house. I stood there not moving for a few minutes watching the sun finally come up from the East. I was sad for my friends, for my family, and for myself. History had killed off billions of people in the past, but there was no question that the strong would survive. For the first time, we were in danger of being completely wiped out as a species eliminating humans from the face of the Earth. The feeling of dread that was overcoming me was unbearable. I hated every second of it. It made me ill and angry simultaneously. Rather than try to figure it out, I just stood there and stared at the beauty of the rising sun. It was far easier looking up into the sky than looking down at the rotting flesh outside my gates.

  *********

  I spent the day working. I was in no mood to socialize or to discuss my feelings, which were as black as they had ever been. I lost faith in everything and was worried sick about my family. I thought I was prepared. I had more than enough supplies on hand to last this and any future apocalypse, but I was not as mentally prepared as I thought. As I burned body after body, I had images in my head of Nazi concentration camps, genocides throughout Africa and Europe, and various traumas that I’ve personally seen in my life. I kept wondering if we deserved to survive having done this to ourselves. We were all killers. I had known that all my life and now I’d experienced it firsthand. I reexperienced it anew every time I shoved yet another body into the glowing pit before me. Finally, I just went numb from my own personal grief and thought of nothing until my work was done.

  Hours later, my wife came out to let me know that dinner was ready. She just looked at me sadly and walked back into the house. She was feeling these things exactly as I was but in her own way. I knew I should comfort her, but I simply did not have the mental capacity to be strong for her.

  I finished, cleaned myself, and went inside to find my dining room table set for a formal dinner. My family and my new friends were all sitting down waiting patiently for me. They all cheered when I arrived. In between silently saying ‘what the fuck’ to myself, I found myself grinning from ear to ear. My kids were always asking to sit at the massive dining room table. The answer was pretty much always ‘no.’ Now I looked over to see everyone dressed in suits and dresses in front of the good china. Even the candles were lit. It looked like Thanksgiving dinner.

  Everybody ran up to me and hugged me. I was mauled by my family. I loved it. I spent extra time admiring their perfect outfits. They looked ready for formal photos at the Queen’s Ball. They twisted and twirled for me showing off their finest. They made me smile as they compared their clothes to each other. I loved it.

  I then looked over as my wife brought in all the filets and cheeseburgers. I was starving. It made my mouth water. Then I looked down at her little black dress. My taste for food suddenly evaporated. She saw my eyes wander up and down her perfect little body in her form-fitting gown. I could tell Jen was pleased by my response. As she brushed closely by me, I saw Mary Kay blush out of the corner of my eye. I was sure she saw my lust. I did my best to control myself for the moment.

  We pigged out on all my favorite foods, and yes I had seconds and even thirds. By the time we left the table, we were all stuffed and barely mobile. Most of the kids’ clothing was covered in stains. But that was ok too as they probably weren’t going to wear them much in the near future, if at all. They all deserved a break- me too. I was coming out of my funk slowly but surely.

  When it was all said and done, we sat down for a show. The kids were practicing all day long for me. There was singing and dancing and lots of laughing and do-overs. I spent all evening learning to love my family all over again. I needed this. Without this, I wasn’t sure that I could go on. This was why I was fighting. There was no fucking way I was going to lay down and die.

  After the kids’ bed time, Mary Kay took me outside and made sure that she knew how to handle the weapons. I would teach her fully the next day, but tonight she was taking over the night shift so I could get rest.

  She walked the perimeter with the dogs who welcomed her and bedded down in the tent ready and waiting for any threats. Thankfully tonight, there were none.

  After putting the kids to sleep, my wife and I retired for the evening. I made her keep on her hot little black dress.

  Chapter 5

  I made my way outside at first light to find that Mary Kay was still sleeping in the tent. The dogs were wandering on their own doing what they did best. When they saw me, they ran over excitedly and kept it up until I fed them. They were very pleased. I fed the other animals as well and then watered everything. It was all quite boring and took me several hours. The good news was that I didn’t have to keep moving and burning bodies. That made my day. I prayed that wouldn’t happen again. Fat chance of that.

  After a couple of hours, I saw Mary Kay waking up and stretching. I guess she wasn’t used to waking up before the sun came up like I was. No matter how I tried, I was never able to sleep later than 6:00 am. And boy did that annoy my wife when we were on vacation. Today, I let her sleep.

  Mary Kay came over surprised that I had already completed my day’s work. Sleepily, she asked, “What’s up for the day?”

  I smiled. “Weapons training. Today we make all of you guys warriors.” I laughed at the thought as I saw the horrified look in her eyes. Then she smiled back. She was getting into the spirit of things. My wife was going to be the hard one.

  We went inside and ate a good breakfast with the family while I explained how things were going to work today. Surprisingly, my wife didn’t argue. I guess she realized that she had no choice but to learn to defend herself.

  I had a simple rule I came up with last night. If you’ve hit puberty, you were old enough to use a pistol.

  I taught Jen, Mary Kay, and my oldest daughter Maria how to use the pistols and drilled them for over three hours before I let them fire some live ammo. After the initial squeamishness, they did great. Hours later, I let them try on their new holsters. We then moved on to smooth quick draws followed by shooting drills. I was confident that they could all hit their stationary targets. It was yet to be seen if they could hit the moving Zeds under pressure. That was a lot harder than it looked. They would learn that lesson live, up close and personal soon enough. Surprisingly, my daughter was the best shot of all. Kids sure picked up things very quickly.

  By mid-afternoon, we were finished, and I was growing bored. I went outside and hammered sharpened four-by-fours into the ground. I topped them off with makeshift heads made up of old halved basketballs. I stapled them on and painted their faces with sharpies.

  I walked inside and looked at all of the kids who were just sitting on the couches watching Disney movies bored out of their minds. I looked at them devilishly while standing in front of the TV. They were about to protest until they saw my face. They knew something was definitely about to happen.

  “All right my kids. We’re going out to have some fun. Go dress in something loose fitting and wear socks and shoes.” They all just sat there and looked at me dumbly. “Move it guys!” I yelled it out with a smile on my face. They all jumped up and ran upstairs. My grin never left my face.

  I looked over and saw Jen and Mary Kay. They didn’t like the look on my face. “That goes for the both of you. Socks, shoes, loose fitting clothing, and a good attitude. You’re going to get sweaty.” I walked outside whistling after raiding the fridge.

  I ate while I waited. The kiddies were quicker than the women. I didn’t expect anything else. I was sure the women were color coordinating. The kids came down for fun. Finally, all were ready, and I could tell they were all slightly nervous.

  I led them to the backyard- even the dogs came along. There were wood four-by-fours spaced ten feet apart. They were of varying heights. On the ground in front of them were various weapons- baseball bats, clubs, large stones, and even unsharpened training sword
s.

  I picked up my son’s aluminum t-ball bat. I swung down as hard as I could on top one of the fake ‘heads’ on the wood. The sound was a very satisfying thunk. I did it again and again until I could barely move my arms. I was sweating from the exertion.

  I looked at all of them. “Your turn.” I handed the bat to Matthew. He ran forward, swung as hard as he could and missed. He twirled and fell. It made us all laugh which he didn’t like. He got mad and started to cry. He tried to push his siblings to get even, which I really didn’t like. I stepped forward and turned him around and helped him swing properly. We started to connect again and again. I let go and let him do it by himself. He made contact. We all clapped. He reddened and smiled. Then he did it again and again missing about 25% of his shots. He would get better. I handed him a different weapon and he went to town.

  I left him on his own and went to the other kids. They all grabbed weapons and starting banging away. Everyone began to get too tired after five minutes. This was just sad. I would have to fix that with running and calisthenics. I had them rest for five minutes and then I tried again. They did better, but only barely. I would have to work on their endurance. When they finished using all the weapons, I moved them on to sticks and stones. I made them hit the ‘heads’ despite their sobs. Hitting your own fingers hurt. They hated that. Too bad. I’d rather they get used to it than give up because of a little pain. They didn’t like me after that. The game stopped being fun. Then I explained to them that this wasn’t a game. Hopefully, they got the point. I planned on doing this again tomorrow.

  “All right ladies, it’s your turn.” I could tell they didn’t like this by the sour look on their faces. They went to take off their holsters.

  I stopped them right there. “Absolutely not. You’re keeping those on forever. You can’t afford to lose a weapon. Not now, not ever.” I had a stern look on my face which made my wife laugh. She didn’t care if I was serious. It annoyed me incessantly.

  I picked up the Indian War Club and showed them how to properly hold it. I swung it straight down onto the head. I hit it hard. There was no doubt that it was going to leave a dent. I repeated the motion and then had them do it. They both promptly missed.

  “Ladies, you just died. Try it again.” I saw that they were nervous now. Good. It just stopped being a game to them.

  They came down slower and made sure they made contact this time. I had them repeat this over and over and over until they could barely lift their arms. They were sweaty, and their hair was a mess. They weren’t happy despite the great progress they made. Me on the other hand, I was pleased because they were doing it right.

  “Now it’s time for tennis like strokes. First a front stroke.” I showed them a high baseball-like swing.” I was very good at that because of a lifetime of baseball.

  I taught them the fundamentals of a good swing, and then I moved on to a backswing. That was much harder. It took them an hour to get the hang of that, and they weren’t very good at that. Then I had them repeat everything.

  I went inside and got the kids again. They groaned immediately. It ceased being fun already. I was hoping for a few weeks of practice.

  “Ladies, show them proper swings.” They looked at me like I was crazy. “Do it. Show them how to properly hit.” I nodded at them that it was ok. I could tell they didn’t feel comfortable with this at all. I really didn’t care about their feelings. I just wanted to make sure they knew how to defend themselves.

  They swung from up top tomahawk style. The sounds of the clubs hitting were great. They showed every single kid how to do it properly with only minor corrections from me. Then they learned to hit from every angle. It was more than I wanted. They did great. There was an old adage in medicine. ‘See one, do one, teach one.’ It reinforced your abilities tremendously. Now all we had to do was practice for the next week, and then I would move on to moving targets. Now that was going to be fun.

  ********

  The next several days went by exactly like this: no Zeds in my driveway, shooting and fighting practice every day, cleaning the house, the yard, the garage, the sheds, and chicken coops etc. It was boring beyond belief. I had to constantly make work for the kids who were getting more and more bored all the time. They were convinced along with the women that the hard part was all over. Even the news became boring and sensational.

  One morning when everyone started getting on my nerves about practice, I took them all upstairs to one of my balconies. I pulled out my binoculars and showed them the real facts of life.

  There below us were hundreds of Zeds just wandering around looking for someone to do.

  ********

  We did our best to ignore the Zeds and they ignored us for the most part. Every once in a while I was forced to pull out the air gun and put a couple of pellets into some soft skull. Other than that, everything was relatively quiet. We maintained, and we trained. We got a lot stronger and we made sure that the family could defend ourselves and each other.

  And then the lights went away for good. We lost all power in the middle of the night and didn’t notice it till the morning. When I got up, I realized the clocks were not working. Then I saw the kids playing their hand held video games with no TV on and asked them why they turned it off. They told me they couldn’t turn it back on. They shrugged and went back to their games. They already adapted. I wondered what they would do when the video games stopped.

  I checked our power supplies. The solar panels and batteries were charging the fridges and freezers. The air conditioners were off completely and there were no lights. I tried to reset them without success. The phone worked but that was about it.

  My wife flipped out about that when she got up out of bed. I guess after hearing from me that this was definitely going to happen, she didn’t believe it until she couldn’t use her hair straightener. Go figure.

  I went to our power center and turned off virtually everything. No more washer/dryers, no more lights, no more a/c, no more microwave, etc. I unscrewed almost all of our overhead lights, leaving about one or two per floor ready to be turned on. The computers all went bye bye. From now on, we would be eating via propane and receiving news from the outside world via hand-cranked radio. We just went back to the 1920s technologically. I was fine with it. My family was another matter. The kids wanted their TV and Wii back and my wife wanted her washer and dryer. It was just too bad. When I showed her the ancient hand cranked model I bought for her and her new dryer lines outside, she almost threw me through a wall. I saw it in her eyes that she was ready to kill. I avoided her the rest of the morning. She got over it when she realized that she could put the kids in charge of laundry. She wouldn’t have to do anything but supervise. The kids hated that. It was hard work. I so didn’t care. That was their problem, and I was damned if they weren’t going to contribute in some way. I kept the ceiling fans on because they didn’t use too much power. It was going to get very hot, very soon.

  Almost immediately the phone started ringing and didn’t stop. All of our friends whom we called since the crisis began, now started to freak. They were all panicking because they realized they were unprepared. They had full pantries and a ready supply of water to last them several weeks, or so they thought. Now that their power just dried up with no chance of getting it turned on again, they realized how helpless they really were.

  My wife fielded call after call begging for help. She of course said yes. What else was she supposed to do? Was she going to allow our friends to starve? She was a good person- far nicer than me. That of course didn’t stop her from gloating to me. What annoyed her was the fact that she begged them every single day to come over with their stuff. She was ignored and sometimes humiliated. Now the tables turned, and she was in charge. After being married to her for many, many years, I knew that she was going to make them all pay.

  All I did was continue my work and shrug at this information. She wanted me to get mad. I didn’t honestly see a point. I went about my business while my wi
fe stayed on the phone. I preferred it that way. My wife always used up my minutes, while I thought the phone was invented by the devil.

  Mid-afternoon, I was relaxing in the yard while the kids were beating the crap out of their targets. They had gotten pretty good at clubbing inanimate objects. Pretty soon I was going to give them live targets. Namely, I was going to put on football gear and let them club me with something soft in order to train them. No matter how soft the club, it was still going to hurt. I was not looking forward to it.

  I was getting up to correct one of the kids when I looked downhill and saw an SUV driving erratically. I moved to the gate instead after telling the kids to go inside. The adults followed me.

  When I reached the gate I saw that the driver was turning up my drive. The car was a massive Ford Excursion from the ‘90s. The car was a tank. Unfortunately, it had five or six Zeds hanging from the running boards, the hood, the top, and the rear tire. The Zeds were being scraped from the car by the road to no effect. They persisted in hanging on to the car. They were a tenacious bunch.

  The car came up the hill fast without slowing. They crashed through the Gremlin without stopping, forcefully moving it out of the way. They kept up their speed as we ran backward. When they were nearing us, the car slammed on the brakes and came within inches of the gate. I exhaled audibly at that. I thought they were about to crash right through the fence and hit us. This really pissed the Hell out of me.

  I was furious and moved forward. I was very willing to personally knee cap the driver or let the Zeds take a bite out of him. The asshole could have potentially killed every member of my family with his stupidity.

  My wife saw my look and stood clear of me. I moved back to the gate and looked at the driver. It was my old friend Sam Johnson, his wife Carolyn, and his family. I always liked him and his wife. They were very attractive, if a bit fat and a lot of fun. His two daughters were butt-ugly, unfortunately. Genetics was a powerful karmic tool.