“Men cry, Travis,” I told him.
He looked up. “Good thing,” he said through the sobs as he wrapped one arm around me, the other looked stiff and I would learn later he had been winged by a bullet.
“What did I miss?” I asked.
Mad Jack and Ron began to tell me of their defenses and I gently reminded them about how easily I had got in.
“We didn’t take into account humans,” Mad Jack said with a frown.
“And I’m sure that’s what Eliza’s thoughts were, too. I took care of her first strike team, but I’ve got to believe she’s going to send another one. I also have these,” I said, holding up four zombie- repellant chains. I explained what they were to those who did not know and we would discuss a way to put them to better use.
Cindy kept looking at me and then the door expectantly. I think she thought that if I had come back from the dead, than quite possibly so had her Brian. I grabbed her hand and slightly shook my head. She knew, she fundamentally knew he wasn’t ever coming back, but the human mind has a way of putting hope above reason. She brought my hand up to her face as she cried. It was long moments before her sobs gave way to a hitching cry, then finally stony silence punctuated by some sniffling. She released my hand and went into another room; I would imagine to be alone with her memories of happier times.
“Where’s Erin?” I asked. Her above all others I owed an explanation.
“We don’t know,” Tracy told me. “She walked out and we haven’t seen her since.”
“She’s out there?” I asked standing up.
“Mike, she wants to be,” BT said, putting his hand on my shoulder. “She died when Paul did, she just didn’t know it yet.”
Now it was my time to bury my face in my hands. I dragged my hands down my face, then realized just how effen gross I was. “I’m going to get cleaned up. Post a guard, then we’ll talk.”
“It’s good to have you back, brother,” Ron said.
“It’s good to be back,” I told them all and I meant it. I left it up in the air if I meant physically back in the house or back from the dead. The clothes I stripped off and neatly deposited in the nearest trash receptacle. The drain was working overtime with the amount of dirt and human debris I was sending its way. I stared straight ahead at the stream of water, choosing, wisely I might add, to not look at what was swirling around my feet.
When I was sufficiently confident that I had stripped at least the top three layers of my skin off, I stopped the water and got out. It was invigorating to be alive, well alive and clean, and home. I stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom Ron had given Tracy and I for our stay.
I hastily covered up when I heard a slight cough. “Shit, woman, you scared me. Thought it might be one of the nieces or something.”
“You look good, Mike, a little skinny…but good,” Tracy said.
“I do, don’t I,” I said placing my hands on my abs. “I haven’t seen those since the Marine Corps days.”
“You should come over here.”
“Let me just grab some clothes,” I told her looking through the stack of stuff she had out for me.
“Those can wait,” she said.
My head shot up (and then so did my other one). “Gotcha,” I said, hastily moving over to the bed where she was already under the covers and I prayed naked. (And there was a prayer the big man had heard! Hallelujah! Praise the Lord! I would have raised my hands up in the air and shook them around like jazz hands if it were appropriate.)
“You going to keep that hat on?” she asked.
“You’ll get used to it.”
“It isn’t just some random Mike phobia then, like the fear of using your cereal spoon more than once?”
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about that anymore? And hey, who the hell knows where my mouth has been?”
“I know where I’d like it to be.”
Conversation came to a lull at that point, and somehow it was right. We made love in the midst of a zombie apocalypse, surrounded on all sides by an enemy hell bent on our destruction and for at least a little bit of time we laid all of that on the bedroom floor. When we came to our blissful conclusion, Tracy spoke.
“Life without you was unimaginable,” she said as her hand came up to the side of my face.
“I’ll bet it was.” I laughed as I kissed her palm. “Who wouldn’t miss me?”
“Mike, no, I’m serious…and for once I wish you would be, too.”
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t too excellent on my end either. I lost a friend I’ve had for thirty years, I don’t know if I’ll ever get over that, and now his wife is missing. And we’re still in one hell of a fuck-fest. Just because I’m back doesn’t make that fact go away.”
“Somehow it does,” she said, laying her head on my shoulder.”
“We don’t have to cuddle now do we?” I asked. “I’d like get to get to work or something.”
She smacked me upside the head. “I love you, Michael Talbot.”
“I love you too, woman.” I kissed her long and hard, and we could have rapidly found ourselves back in our earlier predicament (not that I was complaining), but it would have to wait.
Then I probably soured the mood anyway as I pulled away I asked the very last question anyone should ask while in bed with the one they love. “Where’s Deneaux?”
“She was in the kitchen right before you got there. I really wasn’t paying her all that much attention when you came in, why?”
“She’s got some unanswered questions I like some further explanation for.”
“About?”
“I’m pretty sure she has some culpability in Brian’s death and possibly in Paul’s,” I told her as I got up and grabbed some clothes.
“Please tell me you’re kidding?” Tracy asked, as she pulled off the covers and stood.
“Wow.”
“What?” She was looking around.
“You look more beautiful than the day we met.”
Tracy was slightly self-conscious, but even she had to admit that the apocalypse had done wonders for her body. “Thank you, Mike, but right now I just want to beat some answers out of that battle axe.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” I quickly dressed, as did Tracy.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Mrs. Deneaux
“Fuck me.” Mrs. Deneaux said under her breath as Mike walked in the back door. She uncharacteristically panicked as the behemoth BT picked up Mike and twirled him around. She stayed in the shadows of the living room for a while listening, then quickly retired to her room so that she could make sure that her stories were all consistent.
She knew Mike might be saying all his greetings now, but that he would be trying to sniff around and under her many lies. He somehow knew she was lying, and it would only be a matter of time until he tripped her up.
And then what? she thought. “He’ll probably kick me out.”
She had her ear to the door and could hear the merriment down the hallway. She waited until it died down and mostly became celebration among those that were already at the house.
“...so good to see him.”
“...thought he was dead.”
Yadda yadda, blah blah, she thought. This was her worst case scenario. She exited her room just as she saw Tracy closing the door to her bedroom. She heard the soft hiss of the shower that Mike must be taking. She moved quickly down the hallway to see if he had possibly said anything to anyone else. Then her first chance at an alternate plan revealed itself as she looked down on the four silver chains that each had a small ornate vial filled with an amber colored fluid sitting on the kitchen table.