by Tufo, Mark
5
Mike Journal Entry 4
Everything was going smoothly on the ride back. Trip had shut up, BT’s feet were wrapped. I’d eaten something that didn’t have beans, cherry, or ham in it, and even managed a few minutes of shut-eye. This would be a build-up. When the Hummer began to slow up and stop, I mistakenly figured we’d made it back to the base and the gate guard. Amazing how far off assumptions can be.
“She looks like trouble,” Stenzel said.
Tommy’s voice made me sit upright as if my seat was triggered by a deployed airbag. “Payne.”
And there she was, standing in the middle of the road. She was wearing a long black dress, the train of which, along with her deep red hair, were flowing behind her, traveling on a stiff breeze.
“Sir?” Stenzel asked.
“Think you could run her down?” I asked as I grabbed the door handle and stepped out.
“If I did, I would rather you were inside,” she replied.
Tommy got out, as did a hobbling BT. I looked at his feet.
“You don’t look very intimidating like that,” I told him. “What are you going to do, pop a blister on her?”
“Shut up, Mike,” was all he said; it was plenty.
“I have been looking for you,” she said. I wasn’t sure which of us she was referring to.
I was thinking on the similarities between her and Eliza. Both were ethereally beautiful, more so than we mere mortals could strive to be. But also, their beauty was paired with an unbridled terror. The human mind was not able to fuse the idea of something so breathtaking with something, well, so breath taking in the literal sense.
“Tomas, where have you been hiding?” she asked. She smiled, looked about as sincere as a grin on a snake. To the best of my knowledge, they do not grin, and for the most part, might be the grumpiest animals in the entire wild kingdom.
Still, a sense of relief flooded through me when I realized it wasn’t me she was looking for. Lionel Richie would be sad. In the grand scheme of things, that I was, for the moment, forgotten, mattered little.
“I am here,” was his terse, measured response. “What do you want?”
I was as slowly as I could, bringing my rifle up. The odds that it would do any good were slim, still, I didn’t see any reason to waste an opportunity. Her eyes shifted to me. Whether she saw my movements or read my thoughts, I wasn’t sure; I let the barrel go back down.
“Come here,” she told him. She did not raise her voice or use any particular inflection, but it was a forceful request, nonetheless.
“You can’t be serious?” I asked him as he took a few steps toward her.
“Sir, why is everyone pussyfooting around? If she’s dangerous, let’s just be done with her,” Stenzel said.
I appreciated her attitude, even if it was formed without an appropriate foundation as to whom we were dealing with.
“Stay in the Hummer,” I told her. “If anything happens, just go.”
“It’s just one woman,” she replied, though I had to think, given the shakiness of her voice, she knew that was not entirely true.
“Michael, do you wish to come here as well?” Payne asked.
“I don’t,” I told her as I handed my rifle back to Winters. I leaned in. “Winters, I am ordering you, if anything happens out there, you are to get gone. Get you and the kids to safety. Am I understood?”
“Clear,” he answered.
I think I would have had more spring in my step if I was heading to the gallows. Malice radiated out from Payne, and the closer you got, the more effect it had. I was thankful for BT’s moral support as he accompanied my march; it didn’t temper the feelings of dread, but yeah, that shitty old axiom of misery loves company held true, even in this scenario.
“There are debts to be paid,” she said coolly.
Tommy said nothing. Someday I’ll learn to shut up, but she created a vacuum with her words and I needed to fill it.
“Debts? At what point did we ask for your visit? At what point did we ask for you to attack us? As far as I’m concerned, you’re fucking lucky you’re still alive. Maybe you should take your undead ass and go home, or we can take care of that problem as well.” I could hear Tommy sucking in his breath, most likely in preparation for the battle we were about to be engaged in.
Payne let loose a small laugh that held as much mirth as a mortician prepping his own mother. She looked over at me; she somehow pulled off a look of cold indifference flared with red-hot anger. It was, in a word, impressive. “I was not talking to you.”
I had to admit, something inside of me felt extremely relieved with that admission. Ultimately, it didn’t matter, because if Tommy was in trouble, we all were, but it’s a weird phenomenon. I know there’s a word for it, but it’s been proven that it is easier to defend or protect another than it is yourself. I mean, Deneaux would be the exception to that rule, but apparently, this was a real thing.
“Perhaps we should discuss this another time.” Payne was coolly looking around at the small force assembled against her. No doubt she could do some damage, but this was not a party she wanted to dance at. Foolish me had thought we’d seen the end of her; that’s the thing about recurring nightmares…they, umm, recur.
The more I looked at her, the more I thought maybe I detected a wariness she hadn’t presented before. Was she tired? Perhaps a slight discoloration under her eyes? It did nothing to diminish her beauty or the threat she presented, but it was there, and that meant something. Was it concern for the injured vampire, Charity? Or mourning for her losses? Somehow that didn’t seem to be something she would lose much sleep over.
“Having a tough go of it, are you?” I asked. I was fishing.
She turned ever so slightly to look me in the eyes, though she said nothing. Maybe I misread the non-exchange, but that gaze seemed to speak volumes. Now I took a few seconds to look her over thoroughly; her dress, which had been as pristine as she, was stained and had small tears throughout. The entire bottom was covered in dried mud; her boots were scuffed and dirty.
“You’re being hunted.” The words ran out of my mouth before I could even ruminate; I was so sure of it that pondering whether it was true didn’t seem worth the effort.
She didn’t bother to scoff or give a haughty laugh to imply I was being absurd.
“We can help you,” Tommy said.
I went from knowing exactly what was going on to completely befuddled. If he meant we could help her out of her suffering by putting a fucking bullet in her head, well, that I got. Anything else was a mystery.
“If helping her was on a wheel of probabilities, I’d go by bus to Chicago.”
“What?” Tommy asked.
“That’s what I’m saying,” I said on closed circuit as I opened up to him, mind to mind. “My explanation is as clear as your offer of help. Now I realize we just found Trip, but nothing he could have dosed you with would be acting so fast upon your brain.” I wasn’t overly comfortable with speaking telepathically; nobody needed to be hanging around in there, but necessity dictated the candor.
“She could help us. Trust me.”
I was thinking the help she could offer us would be similar to the help I could afford her.
“It is quite rude to talk amongst yourselves while another is present,” she said.
“I could fix that.” And by fixing that, I meant getting rid of the extra party. I think she got it, but her not rising to the bait meant something.
“The zombies are getting smarter,” Tommy said.
Payne finally moved that scrutinizing look away from me.
“Is this your doing?” she asked.
I wanted to ask her what she knew. In a sense, it was our fault; we knew the risk we took with every shot fired using our treated bullets. In the middle of a firefight, I welcomed the extreme advantage we were given; it was in the quiet of night that the dread of payment for our folly came to the fore. The colonel said we were buying time with the bullets, but I kn
ew the truth. We weren’t buying, but rather borrowing, and we were extremely over-extended.
“It seems you destroyed the only thing that could keep them under control,” Payne said, referring to Eliza. From the beginning, the zombies had shown some ability to adapt, to learn, or maybe just remember past experiences and use them to their advantage. When Eliza began to gain control, she subjugated them to her will, making them dangerous puppets to her whims and cruel desires. They could be controlled.
I was going to ask if she could do the same trick, but refrained. First off, if she could have, she wouldn’t have been running from them, and secondly, didn’t need another zombie leader, especially one of the vampire variety.
“Why are you here, Payne?” I asked. “Would you hang around in this hostile territory just for a vendetta? There’s got to be more.”
“We will meet again, and soon,” she said as she turned and walked off the roadway.
I had my rifle up and pointed at the back of her head. There was no quandary, no moral dilemma running amok in my brain; I was going to shoot her, plain and simple. It was the smart thing that needed to be done. I’d put her down like I would a rabid raccoon in my yard; the only difference is, I would feel bad for the raccoon. My shot brushed past her hair as she moved with a quickness only afforded the damned. She was fifty feet into the woods before I could even think of firing again, and by then we had other problems. I’m hesitant to say bigger, but yeah, problems all the same.
Zombies streamed out of the woods, opposite the side Payne had just entered. She’d set us up; that was easy enough to reason out. I didn’t know whether they had been chasing her all along, and she saw a way to lose her tail, or she’d somehow found a way to control them. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Well, not right now, anyway. Winters and Stenzel were firing from in or around the Hummer. Tommy, BT, and myself sprinted back toward the vehicle. Getting gone was the best option we had available. The drive back to the base was uneventful and that was fine, had plenty to think on. The problem with peace and quiet was it is destined to fail.
6
Mike Journal Entry 5
It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, not something that happened with any regularity in Washington. I’d never been one of those that laid out, soaking it up or basking in the warm glow; most of the time I was fine with some overcast skies and even rain and snow. That all changed since we’d come to this place. The state slogan should have been: Washington—The Land the Sun Forgot. Or: Vampires Welcome! Scratch that last one. How about, Gothic Paradise! That could grow some legs. The state was so devoid of the yellow rays of the sun, even I found myself craving it. No matter what they said, you could never take enough vitamin-E to replace it; or is it D? I don’t take either one, so it doesn’t matter much. Not pertinent. The sun was out, I was doing a passable job of barbecuing for the squad, though they were making it difficult with all the shots we kept doing. Dropped more than a couple of hot dogs on the grass, the pack of wild dogs by my feet loved this game I was playing, even sometimes going as far as to entangle my feet, with the hope I would drop another one.
Travis was out on a date, Nicole was at a picnic table cooing with her baby, Tracy by her side as they fussed over him. BT was dancing by himself, well, it looked that way as his massive body swallowed up my sister. Trip had a fog of smoke encircling his head—looked like the dirtiest halo I’d ever seen.
“Happy hay!” he’d yell out from time to time. “Some of my best summer harvest!”
Justin had been at work; his shift must have been over, so why was he running? Not like anything I was making was going to be all that good, either grossly undercooked or shoe leather, I was having a hard time finding the sweet spot in between. Luckily, Tracy had made a bunch of sides because they were about the only thing not being eaten by the dogs. Chloe scratched at my leg and barked at me as if asking when I was planning on dropping the next batch of treats.
“I’m working on it,” I told her. She tilted her head; I swore that dog could read my lips. She was the free spirit of the two dogs that I’d brought back from New York. Everybody was her friend, and she made sure to greet each and every guest when they came to the house. Holly, on the other hand, was only about our family. She wasn’t hostile to anyone, but neither was she friendly. Generally, on any type of outing, she stayed very close to my hip while also keeping an eye on her wayward sister. Right now, she bristled as my son approached. She didn’t like when things were out of the ordinary. It made sense I would have a dog with obsessive-compulsive disorder.
“Dad, you’re going to want to see this.”
“Most likely just a fungus. It’ll go away on its own,” I told him.
“What?”
“Sorry, standard answer.”
“Really?”
“It is after a half dozen shots of Goldschlager Jagermeister Friesengeister.” I cleared my throat. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” I asked, looking for a watch I wasn’t wearing.
“Can you just come to the front gate with me? They’ve got some SEAL team bringing something in.”
Now I got suspicious. “What are they bringing in?”
“That’s why I think you should come.”
“BT!”
“I’m not helping you burn any more food! Why don’t you let Justin take over,” he called from the grassy patch he and my sister were using as a dance floor.
“Need you with me.”
He took the time to look over and see the concern on Justin’s face and me taking my BBQ apron off.
“Really?” Tracy said, as she came over quickly and pulled it off of the grill top.
“Be right back. You’re driving,” I told Justin.
“You sure?”
“Of all the things I question, this isn’t one of them.”
Within five minutes, we were at the front gate. Besides us, there were only the half dozen guards assigned there.
“Lieutenant, can I help you with anything?” a corporal came over to ask.
I had to lean in and squint to see his name. “I’m good, Corporal Beal.”
“You should maybe get back to whatever party you left then, sir,” he said.
“I like it here. Lot quieter.”
He said nothing as he left, though I watched as he went to his booth and picked up a phone.
“Even grilling meat you find a way to stir shit,” BT said, watching the same thing I was.
“Something’s up. He shouldn’t give two shits if we sit here or not. He looks tense.”
“I’m tense,” BT replied.
“Justin, do you know anything else besides SEALs are coming with something?”
“No, just that it’s supposed to be a secret.”
“Who told you that?”
“Umm, no one. I was working on an engine at the motor pool and these two gunnys were talking about it. I guess they didn’t see me.”
“Why wouldn’t the Old Man bring whatever it is in during the night if it’s supposed to be a secret?” BT asked.
“As good a question as any,” I told him.
Ten minutes later, an MP Hummer pulled up, and a gunnery sergeant stepped out.
“That’s one of the ones that was talking about it,” Justin whispered.
“Lieutenant, I’m going to have to ask you to leave this area immediately.”
I did the lean in and squint thing again. “Hello, Gunny Cabaro.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Mouthwash,” I told him.
“Doesn’t matter. Need you to leave.”
“You asking?”
“So far, I am, sir.”
“And if I say no?”
“I’ll bring you in for public intoxication.”
“I haven’t done anything…oh, I get it, that doesn’t matter. You just want me out of here long enough to bring your package in.”
His eyes widened for a moment, then he put his game face back on.
“I don’t know where you
got your information, but we’ve got nothing scheduled for a few days and then it should be food from a raiding patrol.”
“How much trouble is one likely to get into if it’s found out they’re the ones spilling secrets, Gunny? Wait, that wasn’t very clear…let’s be candid. I got the information from you.”
“From me, Lieutenant?”
“Yeah. You were talking to one of your other NCO buds about how the SEALs were bringing something in, and the base needed to be on heightened alert. I took it upon myself to see exactly what this new development was.”
“Go home, sir.”
“I like the air here,” I told him.
“How far up the chain of command would you like me to go, sir, until I find someone that gets you gone?”
“If I were you, I’d go right for the Old Man himself. Anyone else, I generally have disdain for.”
The gunny started to reach for his handcuffs; I pulled my 1911 free from its holster. He reached for his gun as well.
“Put it back.” I had mine leveled on his chest, his was still down by his side. “Don’t try me. My understanding is that all you basers think us raiders are fucking nuts. Do you want to test the validity of that rumor?” He wisely placed his gun back in its holster. “No? Go away. As Trip would say, you’re harshing my high.”
“Have you lost your ever-loving mind?” BT asked. “Not even sure why I asked that.”
Wasn’t five minutes after that, Colonel Bennington exited the truck that had just pulled up.