“Besides Mirabelle here, you’re the best person I’ve ever met,” Luke said, trying unsuccessfully to mask his own water works.
They hugged again. Both men’s shoulders were bobbing. I didn’t know if I should feel jealous or not. I think if I walked out the door and never saw John again he would merely forget he had ever met me. After another ten minutes of them making excuses not to part, we were seated in the Gremlin. John had his hand pressed up against the glass as we passed by Luke’s and Mirabelle’s. I waved. Their kindness had been like a small hiker’s cabin amidst a raging blizzard. I would not soon forget the reprieve, and I did not think John ever would.
“You alright, bud...Trip?”
“He was a kindred spirit,” John said, finally looking through the front windshield as opposed to the rear.
“Maybe after you get your wife, you can go back. It’s not that far.” He seemed to perk up after that.
“Do you think Stephanie would want to?” he asked earnestly.
My first thought was to say ‘how the fuck would I know?’ “If she sees how important it is to you, then I’m sure she’ll want to.” Although, in all honesty, I thought the odds were much slimmer than that. Odds that I figured her to be alive were about ten percent; odds that we’d find her in addition to her being well at about one percent. Odds that we found her alive and well AND she would want to hunt down her husband’s long lost friend from yesterday? I figured that to be an unimaginably small number, the type that scientists used when they were trying to figure out the weight of atoms.
John, in contrast to his earlier mood, seemed completely upbeat. He must not have received my odds sheet from Vegas yet. Beside wearing too short shorts and a tight wife beater t-shirt, plus driving in a lime green Gremlin, the day was going exceedingly well. I knew I had cosmically cursed myself the moment I had the thought. Nothing changes the fates quicker than telling the universe that everything is going great! Might as well flip a cop off doing ninety with a bottle of tequila in your lap and marijuana cigarette hanging out of your mouth. That’s about how quickly our day went from ‘wicked pissah’ to ‘what the fuck?’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Eliza & Tomas
“You ready, Tomas?” Eliza asked as she headed for their vehicle.
Tomas stared back at the city as the last few fires sputtered on. There wasn’t much left at this point that could keep it going. He turned to catch up with her. “I am, Lizzie. I just want this to all be over.”
“Are we still on the same side, brother?” Eliza asked as she sat down.
“I will not raise my hand up against you, if that is what you mean,” he told her as he walked around the front of the black glassed Dodge.
“When Michael Talbot’s family are begging for my mercy, you will not help them?” she mused. “I find that somewhat difficult to believe.”
“You believe what you want, Eliza. I have not lied to you.” What he failed to elaborate on was that he would also not lift a finger to help her if the tables were somehow turned.
“I think we are in for some fun in Maine. Maybe not as much as the Black Plague, but certainly something to rival it.”
Tomas had finally come to the realization of who—and more importantly what—his sister had become. No amount of reasoning, pleading, begging, or crying would change that. She had become a monster to rival anything ever produced in the pages of a book or on the cells of a film. He only had two hopes left; one was that, once she had destroyed Talbot’s family, the hatred that burned so deeply within her would be extinguished. Or that the resourceful Talbots were able to gain the upper hand and destroy his sister. Either way would almost be a relief.
Tomas turned the car around and got back onto the highway; the restocked tractor trailer convoy packed full of speeders and a new, deadly surprise followed suit. Once the initial attack had subsided, a fair portion of Eliza’s human familiars had returned, those were bolstered by her new henchman leader Kong and his trucker friends. She had drained a few of the deserters dry for their actions. The men that were following Eliza knew they had made a deal with the devil, but when you’re faced with hell, options are limited. Eliza could barely contain her excitement, her black eyes shined brightly as Tomas drove on.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Maine
It was early evening and Mrs. Deneaux was sitting on the deck overlooking the pond. Her gaze had that far away look as she reflected back on her life.
“Beautiful out here isn’t it?” Tracy asked as she came out the sliding door. She was holding a steaming cup of tea, hoping that it would somehow drive the cold in her soul away.
“I’ve seen prettier,” Mrs. Deneaux said as she took a drag.
Tracy looked past the comment. “I just wanted to say thank you.”
Mrs. Deneaux looked over to the woman suspiciously. “For what?”
“BT told us all what you did. He said they probably wouldn’t have made it if not for you. I just wanted to thank you for bringing my brother-in-law and friend back.”
Mrs. Deneaux’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know why I did it?”
“I would imagine because their well being meant something to you,” Tracy replied not sure of the basis to Deneaux’s question.
“I did it because I stood a better chance of surviving with them than without them. Not because I have any personal affinity for either one. I think your brother-in-law is a dolt personally, and BT was just your husband’s lackey. Without Mike directing him, he is as unsure of himself as an eighteen-year-old virgin with a hooker. Now Michael I miss, that was a man that could get out of a jam, smart enough to know what to do and dumb enough to do it himself.” She laughed at her wit.
Tracy was aghast.
“Oh don’t look so surprised, dearie, self-preservation is a pretty strong motivator.”
“At the expense of all others?” Tracy asked.
“Who should be more important to me than me?”
“And you can live with yourself like that?”
“Quite comfortably,” Deneaux answered. She turned back to the pond as a lone loon landed and made an other-worldly cry. Deneaux took another drag from her cigarette. “Are we done talking?” she asked. Tracy had already gone back in.
“Fun isn’t she?” BT asked as Tracy fumed past.
She stopped to respond. “You didn’t at some point think killing her and dropping her on the side of the roadway was a good idea?”
“Every couple of miles, but she never put the damn pistol away,” he responded truthfully.
“How’s Gary doing?” Tracy asked, trying to take her mind off of Deneaux.
“He’s pretty torn up. He thinks he alone is responsible for Mike’s death.”
“That’s ridiculous, Mike is...was a grown man.” Tracy swallowed hard as she made the adjustment from present to past tense.
“He can’t help it, as his big brother he feels like he should have been able to protect him.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Tracy said.
“That’ll do him some good, I think,” BT replied.
“Do you think it’s over, BT?” Tracy asked, her eyes pleading for some hope. “Will my children, will my grandchild be able to live in a world in recovery?”
BT wanted to, no, needed to give her the answer she so desperately sought. He could not find it, though, and remained silent.
Cindy who had been seated in the room, her eyes red from crying, looked at the two of them. “We’re all dead. There is no hope for us. All day long we prepare for the zombies. We are trying so hard to keep them out never realizing that in so doing we are preventing ourselves from being able to leave. And I’m sorry, but this isn’t the Garden of Eden, I don’t want to spend all eternity here. The zombies do not die on their own unless we kill them…they will ALWAYS be out there!” She shouted. “How can we possibly defeat that? Even if we somehow keep them from coming in, what have we gained?”