Zombie Fallout 3: THE END .... (36 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE - TOMMY'S DISAPPEARANCE -

Tomas had heard everything his sister had told Mr. Dad. He had no doubts that she would follow through with her threats. Lizzie was not one for idle intimidation; he had witnessed firsthand the depths her cruelty could take. Tomas could not watch another family he loved be killed merely for the sinister amusement of Lizzie.

He would stop this here and now. He would willingly give himself up to her, and before he would allow her to do to him whatever she needed to survive, he would make her promise that she would not harm the Talbots, ever. She would listen to him. She was his sister after all. With that thought in his head Tommy waited for his best chance to get away undetected. Tommy possessed more than a few of the powers his sister did and in all likelihood many more. Tommy could have walked away in plain sight and not been detected if he knew how to control it. As it was, he waited until everyone was in the house before he walked over the iced tracks the humvee had made coming up the driveway yesterday morning.

When Tommy felt he had gotten far enough away from the homestead he jumped into a small culvert. There he waited, covering his ears when he heard his dad crying his name. Tommy had been crying too. On more than one occasion he almost got up and walked back towards them, but all he could see if he walked that path were gravestones engraved with the names of the people he loved. That walkway was already long enough. He would not add to it, not this time, not ever again. He drove his fists deeper into his ears, oblivious to the pain he was causing himself. Tears pooled around him.

Tomas had been so intent on blocking out all extraneous sensations he had missed the noise of the Talbot clan as they had passed on by. Early nightfall was threatening on the horizon when he finally looked up. "Stupid, stupid," he said to himself, rubbing the remains of his tears away from his eyes and cheeks. The farmhouse that just the night before had seemed so safe now looked oddly menacing. No residual warmth remained there, only cold, impersonal death. Tommy stood up easily, having not felt any ill effects from being in a kneeling position in the cold snow for near on 4 hours. He never wondered why he never felt pain or got sick. It was just the way it had always been for as long as he could remember. He thought maybe it was because he was 'special' like Lizzie used to tell him.

Tomas looked once to the house, once to the roadway and then headed out across the field in an easterly direction. He was walking a straight line to the psychic beacon that his sister was sending out. Within a half hour he found himself face to face with her. His need to hug and kiss her were thwarted by the indifference she flared all around her.

"Welcome brother," she intoned, without even a remote hint of love or caring.

"Hi Lizzie," Tommy, said looking down at his shoes, wishing he was anywhere but here.

"I'm so glad you could make it," she said without regard.

"You'll leave the Talbots alone?" Tommy fairly begged.

"Oh come now brother, what does the death of one more perishable family mean to you. You are immortal like I am!" she shouted.

"I am nothing like you, Lizzie," Tommy said meekly. Lizzie laughed mockingly at him. "You will leave the Talbots alone or I will leave again."

"Oh it is far too late for that, Tomas. As for the Talbots, I do not think that I am quite done yet. He has defied me twice and I do not suffer fools gladly."

Tommy was panicked. He had done no good here; he had in fact made matters worse. If he had stayed away for a month, two at the most Lizzie would have died, no, Eliza would have died. Lizzie died 500 years ago. Tommy started to cry anew.

"Come, come brother. I will kill his family quickly if that makes you feel any better, but Michael, he will suffer in ways I have not yet dreamed." Her bitter laugh mirrored Tommy's feelings. "There is someone here that is going to help. Maybe you will recognize him."

Tommy saw the man being pushed up to Eliza's side. "Doc?" Doctor Baker looked like he had suffered greatly at the hands of his sister, and his family was nowhere to be seen.

Tommy registered Durgan's presence a fraction of a second too late. His sister had completely blocked his senses. The needle plunged far too deep, and sleep followed immediately.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO - JOURNAL ENTRY 25 -

I had felt nothing, going on ten hours. I barely registered the Maine Stateline sign hanging askew. The most conversation since we had left the Powell House revolved around a bathroom break and even that was a pinched conversation. Pardon the pun. Tommy was one of our own. He was the shining light. He was the hope of a new dawn. All of that was lost. He was lost. We were lost. Eliza wasn't going to let us go. She was too prideful and too filled with hate to let anybody that stood up to her go unpunished.

Sure we might go unnoticed for a couple of months, but as soon as Justin ran out of his shots she would be able to home back in on him and we'd be on the run again. My thoughts were as black as the night, without even a single star to light my way. Would anybody protest if I just drove on into the ocean?

So this is what my life is reduced to. I will watch as those around me fall. Maybe I will get lucky and be next, then I won't have to suffer through this anymore. I don't know how much more of this I can take, my soul is already damn near transparent. I have done everything that is within and possibly beyond my human ability and still I have come up woefully short.

The slow, steady forced march to death that all of us experience has now turned into a 4x4 relay race. Jen handed the torch to Brendon, Brendon handed it to Tommy, who will Tommy hand it to? Every time I think that my despair has bottomed out I come to realize that I was only on a false shelf, the black plummeting drop wrenching my stomach into my throat, all sense of self and awareness enshrouded in misery. Existence hardly seemed worth the effort. How much pain does one feel from a self-inflicted gunshot?

'COWARD!' Echoed off the walls of the well I was trapped in.

Alone, in the dark, huddled against a wet dank wall, I shuddered in revulsion, of my situation and more so of myself. I just wanted to be done. The burden I carried now far exceeded my limits. Something had broken inside of me. Tommy had been the crutch upon which my spirit leaned on. With him gone it had crashed to the floor, smashing into millions of pieces like littered glitter. Pretty to look at but generally just a mess of color that gets everywhere but in the trash.

The soft glow of the moon lightly lit up the interior of the hummer, and I took long moments to gaze across the faces of the ones I loved. Yes, they would be the reason I would climb out of this pit. They would be the reason I would move forward no matter how much my will resisted. For them, I would never give up.

"You keep looking at me like that and you'd better take me out to dinner," BT said with one eye half open.

"Thank you BT," I choked out.

"Yeah, you're welcome. Now I know I'm pretty and it's tough to keep from looking at all this," he said swirling his hand around his face, "but I'd much rather you keep your eyes on the road."

"Thanks BT," I reiterated.

"We will get through this, Talbot," he said reaching up from the back and placing his hands on my shoulders. My shoulders shook, my silent tears crashing through my head. I knew the big man was hurting too. Tommy was dear to all of us. Right now BT was the Cliffs of Dover and I was the tide crashing into them. In a few millennia I might wear him down but for now he was going to be my rock. I reached over my chest and gripped his left hand with my right. If ever there were a strength I could anchor to, it was within this man. "This doesn't mean we're going steady now," I quipped half-heartedly.

I propped my knee up to hold the steering wheel as I tried to wipe away the cascading tears with my left sleeve. BT looked off to the side, letting me hold on to what little remained of my dignity. Tracy witnessed the whole scene. Maybe at a different time she would have commented that we made such a cute couple; now just didn't seem like that time.

The chain that ensnared my heart grew a little heavier that day as Tommy's death added its own links to the length. Someday I would be strong enough to carry it, but for now dragging it would have to do.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE - JOURNAL ENTRY 26 -

Maine looked almost the same as it had before zombieism became a national pastime. It was indeed passed over from modernity. The towns we passed through seemed devoid of any type of life. Occasionally we would pass a murder of crows snacking on things better left to the imagination but that was it. Mainers were traditionally a strong stock of folks that did not much like or trust people-from-away. But hey, they were Red Sox fans, so they have that going for them. Population wise, proximity (or lack thereof) to major cities and a general distrust of all things governmental may have worked in this reclusive state's favor.

We weren't being attacked by zombies but at the same time I wasn't seeing a welcome wagon. Odds were that we had passed under more than one rifle scope as we drove on but Mainers live under the premise of 'if you don't screw with us, we won't shoot you.' (Sort of like Northeast Texas.) Some buildings had been destroyed, others ransacked. There was the occasional crashed car but for the most part this looked better than pre-zombie Detroit. Okay so that's not saying a whole hell of a lot, but we are still talking Armageddon here.

Travis looked out the window. I could tell he was starting to see things that looked familiar. "How much further?" he asked with a hint of excitement in his voice.

God, I hoped my family was okay. I needed the infusion of hope that they would offer. "Hour or so, depending on fuel." The gauge couldn't go any lower. As it was, the hummer was sucking up the rusted bits of the fuel tank. I wonder what the mpg is on diesel-soaked metal fragments? If the truck died now that hour would now become a 10-hour sojourn that Carol and possibly BT wouldn't make. I started looking around for another viable means of transportation, but any survivors had beaten me to it. Mainers typically survive some of the harshest weather conditions on the barest minimum of supplies. Anything that could help them weather this 'storm' was long gone. I'd have a better chance of getting quality dental care in England. As if on cue and to make my heart skip another beat, the hummer sputtered once, twice and then lurched forward.

Tracy looked over at me nervously. "We going to make it?"

Both variations of that question had a huge '?' at the end. I didn't say it out loud. No need to, we all felt it.

The hummer got further than I expected but less than was needed. We were a full fifteen miles short of our destination when she quit. We were on a slight downgrade and I was able to eke out another tenth of a mile. Excellent, only 14 and 9/10ths miles to go. Carol, BT, Nicole and Henry could not make this march. Hell, the way I felt, I wasn't sure if I could.