The Broken and the Dead (Book 1) (9 page)

Elaine was crying and it was all I could do to not cry too. Old Man Tucker sighed deeply and then he walked over and knelt in dirt next to where Elaine was sitting.

“Elaine” he said, “before this, before all of this shit.”

He swallowed hard before continuing

“I was dead. Nothing mattered to me. I spent my entire life loving one woman, I loved her more than life itself, and I know it was a sin, but I loved her more than I loved God.”

Now it was Elaine’s turn to remain silent.

“I tried to love her best I could, but whatever I did seemed to be wrong. The one person I loved more than anything, I drove her crazy, I hurt her feelings, and we fought over everything, over anything. She was beautiful, smart, and talented. I adored her and she couldn’t be happy with me. We stayed together until the kids became adults and then she left me. I spent five years in the bottle after that. She got married again to a professional musician and last I heard she was living the life she always wanted in Boston. But I honestly don’t want to know, it hurts too much.”

He reached into a pack and took out bottled water; opening it he drank and slowly let his breath out. I suddenly felt guilty like I was listening in on a confession.

“I was waiting to die. I hoped for it, prayed for it, I just wanted it to be over.”

He was silent then, not even a cricket disturbed them. Just the light of the fire shared their secrets.

“And then this.” Elaine said her voice having more than a little bit of madness in it. She nearly laughed at the circumstance. Old Man Turner turned and looked at her for the first time.

“Yes Elaine, and then this, and suddenly I found that maybe; just maybe my life could mean something again. I found myself caring for your sister and your brother and Billy and you too. You are like my, well, grandkids. Your Mother and Mrs. Driscol are like my daughters.” He drank again then looked away.

“My kids are grown and moved on, they are strong and they are smart, my wife is too and all of them are far away. I can’t help them.” There was a hitch in his voice and I felt tears burning in my own eyes but I held them back.

“I just thought, if I could help you, then my existence would be justified again.”

Elaine stood and walked over to him, his back was turned to her, and she placed a hand on his shoulder and said

“Mr. Tucker, I don’t know how it has been for you but I can imagine. You have been lonely for a long time. But I know this Mr. Tucker, you have a family somewhere and I am sure they love you and you have a family here and we love you too. I don’t know what we  ...” and again her voice was choked off in sobs.

Mr. Tucker turned around and put his big hairy arms around her and patted her back,

“It’s okay Elaine, it’s okay, I’m going to do everything I can for all of you; no matter what it takes.”

Elaine cried some more and I could hear her sniffling and I could imagine her leaving a wet trail on his plaid shirt. Somehow I knew that he didn’t care, not one bit, and I felt that no matter what happened, no matter what horrors were ahead of us, Old Man Tucker would be there, and it made me smile. I rolled over, not happy really or satisfied, heck I was still scared as before, but somehow it was better. My friends, my family and me; we had someone on our side; someone big and hairy and mean, someone who knew about guns and fighting and stuff. I’ve heard people say that there were things that went bump in the night, we had someone that could bump back and his name was Tucker.

Day 5

The next morning I awoke and could smell food cooking and I could hear voices I rolled over and saw that Billy was still crashed out so I shoved him awake and he groaned in response. I got up and as I exited the tent Mom pointed to the right of the tent,

“Boy’s room is over there Johnny.”

Lucy was hoping up and down with her never ending energy

“And the girl’s room is over there! You don’t get to go over there because.” she said.

I waved her off and went to do my business. When I got back everyone was up and talking except for Billy and Elaine, Billy was still sleeping I didn’t know where Elaine was so I asked

“Is Elaine still asleep?” Lucy ran a circle around me and hit me with Ronald Bear.

“No, no, no, Elaine is not asleep, but you, you, you have to wait to see!”

I sighed but I could tell by the mood of everyone that things were better as far as Elaine was concerned. Mom shoved a plate in my hand, I looked at it but wasn’t sure exactly what it was so I asked,

“Um Mom, what is this?”

It was Lucy once again who answered

“It’s spam and cheerios on toast just like the real bucket heads eat.”

Mom whispered “jarheads honey, its jarheads.”

Lucy grinned “Yep a whole buncha jars!”

I heard a laugh and looking around I could see Elaine; she sure looked different, she had cut her hair real short and had a red bandana tied around her head. She had rolled her jeans up to the top of her hiking boots like Tucker did and she was wearing what I was pretty sure was one of Dad’s shirts over a tube top. She had her rifle over her shoulder and was now wearing a holster, I could see it held poor Mr. Caulfield’s 7-shooter.

Old Man Tucker spoke then

“The ladies feel we should stay here one more day, and since it would help that car air out some I have no objections.”

Lucy added “and we know where the bashturn is going anyway!”

“LUCY! Don’t use language like that!” Mom yelled at her.

Elaine walked by Lucy and whispered “it’s
bastard
not bashturn kiddo.”

“EEEEEEEEELAINE!” Mom pretend yelled between gritted teeth, clearly flustered.

After breakfast (if indeed that is what it was) Mrs. Driscol laid out a list of chores for us. Billy and I were to count every single bullet of every single kind. We had gone through a lot of them the previous day. Elaine and Mom were cleaning all the guns with Old Man Tucker’s kit; and Mrs. Driscol and Old Man Tucker were going to use bleach on the inside of the wrecked SUV. Lucy was to make sure that whenever they emptied a bucket of dirty water she was to go and fill it with water from the well. After we finished our inventory Billy and I took a turn on watch, when Mom and Elaine finished with the guns they started a food inventory. Lunch came and went, Old Man Tucker went on watch and Billy, Lucy, Elaine and I resorted and repacked both SUVs. That afternoon we looked at the map, we figured we had gone about 150 miles in one day, not very far at all but then again we had been busy.

“That leaves about 180 to go.” Mom said.

Lucy added “as when crabs lie.”

“
CROW FLIES
” Old Man Tucker grumbled. “That’s what I said” Lucy agreed. We worked hard, prepared, reloaded and didn’t talk about Dad or Mr. Driscol or the Caulfield’s. All in all it was a good day, at least until the sun went down.

Things seemed relaxed that afternoon and evening. Dinner was a’la Mom and started with Dinty Moore vegetable soup that was “upgraded” (as she put it). After that we all had a brief meeting where issues were discussed, the meeting ended when Lucy pointed out that Ronald Bear should be armed like everyone else. After some debate the issue was tabled because of insufficient information. Lucy said that while she was cool to the idea of an armed bear, Ronald was very upset about the whole matter. After that we sat around the fire and several times I saw Elaine seeming to drift off again as if the shock and depression was trying to re-exert its authority over her. Each time she was able to shake off what Old Man Tucker once called “her black dog”. He explained that Winston Churchill suffered from these bouts of extreme sadness after he served in some place called Gallipoli. I nodded and tried to look wise but I didn’t know who Churchill was or where Gallipoli was. Eventually we were broke into pairs for guard duty. Old Man Tucker and Billy would go first, me and Mom second, and finally Elaine and Mrs. Driscol. We all settled in looking forward to the next day, looking forward to getting back on the trail of the Franks.

I was asleep when I was awakened by Old Man Tucker’s rifle fire and almost immediately the pop, pop, pop of Billy’s semi-auto. We grabbed our guns and scrambled out of the tent. Billy was near the barbeque pit and was firing down the hillside; I could hear OId Man Tucker cursing and I could hear the blows of his ham-like fists. I could see what appeared to be three people all entangled and rolling in the dirt. I saw Elaine and Mom heading for Mr. Tucker so I ran towards Billy to give him some help. All over the hillside I could see them, they were scattered here and there, in ones and twos. None were bunched up like they were two days before. They were faster than before, it was hard for us to hit any of them and if not for the rapid fire rifles I doubt I would have got any at all. As it was we tried to bring down those that were closest. I looked over my shoulder at Elaine who had taken out her pistol and was screaming for Mr. Tucker to hold them still. Mom stepped into my vision on one side, Mrs. Driscol on the other and their bolt actions fired over and again, with a bright “ping” sound when the magazines would drop through to the ground followed by a scramble and a new 3 round clip pressed home.

Old Man Tucker screamed as one of the crazies bit hard onto his right bicep and blood sprayed across the ghoulish face. The second crazy was pressing hard on his left arm so that it was pushed behind him, in response Old Man Tucker’s face was contorted in pain, no, not pain, agony. He snapped his head forward and the top of his skull crashed into the biter, there was a sickening crunch of bone and the slender crazy was hammered backwards. Enough of a separation was created that Elaine was able to hold her revolver just inches away from its head and she pulled the trigger. She turned to see that Old Man Tucker had rolled over on top of the much lighter crazy, he had his right hand on the things throat blood running down his arm pooling on the ground beneath them. Elaine headed towards them but another crazy ran into the camp; it sprinted towards Elaine and tackled her, her revolver was sent flying from her grasp.

Old Man Tucker leaned forward onto the crazy his fingers digging into its throat, he pressed with all his weight; he was screaming at it, demanding it to die. Old Man Tucker’s left arm hung uselessly at his side. Meanwhile Elaine was beating at the crazy’s face with both fists, her blows keeping its snapping jaws away from her. Suddenly the crazy’s face caved inwards following a violent explosion and Elaine shoved the body from her. She rolled over and saw Lucy was lying on her back, looking at the sky, and held in both hands the smoking Nagant revolver. Elaine scrambled to her feet and rushed to her sister’s side. She checked Lucy out and she seemed physically uninjured. Elaine took the revolver and rising she lifted Lucy to her feet.

“Stay close to me Luce, right next to me.” and with wide eyes Lucy nodded in agreement.

Old Man Tucker raised himself, supporting his entire weight on his right hand; suddenly there was an audible
crack
as the crazy’s neck was shattered so badly the head was barely held on. Old Man Tucker staggered to his feet, his face pale from loss of blood, his eyes glazing over. He staggered a bit and with his bloody right hand he pulled one of the Colt “Thunderers”; he leaned forward and walked toward the fire ring slowly lifting the hog leg to firing position. There were bodies in the long grass; the high rate of fire from our semi-auto .22s was effective at that range. Many of the bodies had numerous holes in them. Mrs. Driscol and Mom were firing at any slow moving crazies, but the circle was closing in. That was when Old Man Tucker walked right past us towards the crazies; the revolver barked; his first shot a direct hit but the second a miss and so was the third. As they closed on him their flanks became open to the fire of me and Billy and our Mom’s. The crazies’ attention was focused on the big, bleeding old man. He seemed to get his stride back and the next two rounds flattened their targets. The 41 long colts’ rounds were big and devastating if not the most modern in our arsenal. His last round spun one around but didn’t put it down. It was like they were waiting for this and they charged. Old Man Tucker threw his revolver and nailed one right between the eyes stunning it. He tried to pull his second revolver but he was buried under a half dozen bodies. All of them fighting to get a hold of him; their claw-like fingers flashing, wanting to tear him apart, jealous of each other, wanting to devour the biggest portion possible. Billy screamed; his last magazine empty he pulled his .22 revolver and charged. I yelled and followed him. I could hear Mom yelling

“Johnny NO!” but we had to try.

I could hear them behind us and I knew Mom and Mrs. Driscol were coming too. We fired at anything that resembled the back of a head and in mere moments it was over. We pulled the last bodies away and there was Old Man Tucker on his back, his body covered in bruises and blood; open, crescent shaped wounds oozing bright red. His face was beaten so badly both eyes were swollen shut and there were three parallel gashes running from his forehead to his jawline on the left side of his face. He wasn’t moving. Mrs. Driscol knelt beside him and leaned over so that her ear was by his mouth,

“He’s breathing! Help me get him over to the fire.”

We were all there and I found out first hand just how heavy Old Man Tucker was, we all had to pitch in to move his considerable bulk. Even Lucy had one combat booted foot held in both hands as she grunted and groaned in effort. We placed him on a blanket between the barbecue and the well. Lucy immediately started to fill the same bucket she had been in charge of earlier; Elaine appeared with one of the med kits we had assembled. Mrs. Driscol cut his shirt away with a pair of scissors and then undid his belt and started to cut his jeans away. No one said anything or made any jokes as the Old Man was reduced to nothing but his underwear and socks. Mom started to dab hydrogen peroxide at the bite marks and they immediately began to react she eventually gave up and just poured it into each of them. Pale pink foam erupted from a dozen bites and almost as many claw induced gashes.