The car in his driveway was not familiar and he parked his Chevy pick-up truck behind the late model BMW. He moved quickly to the front door, fumbling with his keys as he began to live the nightmare of so many other long distance haulers. He could hear his wife’s first words, ‘I have needs!’ she would yell.
Fear adrenaline blasted through his veins making the delicate action of slipping a key into a lock exceedingly difficult. He heard her cries of passion as he opened the door. He looked to the kitchen and the butcher block knife holder. “Fuck that, I’ll crush his throat with my hands,” he said as he tore down the hallway.
The bedroom door was open. Why would it be closed? They had no children and he wasn’t expected home for another forty-eight hours. It took him many heartbeats to reconcile the sight he saw in his bedroom with what he thought he was going to see. His wife was sitting up in her bed, tears were streaking down her face as an older gentleman sat on the bed next to her, he was holding her hands. A small satchel sat on her nightstand.
“What,” he said loudly, “is going on, Madeline?” His words getting quieter with each progressive syllable.
The older gentleman turned.
Madeline struggled to look through her natural waterfall. “Kong,” she sniffed. “What are you doing home?” Her words sounding guilty, but her actions belied that.
“What is going on?” Kong asked even quieter than before. His mind noticing the twin snakes wrapped around the pole emblazoned on the satchel. At that moment he hoped—no, he prayed—they were playing doctor.
“My name is Dr. Corren,” the elderly man said, standing up. He walked over to Kong extending his hand.
Kong knew that most men that had just fucked another’s wife didn’t generally shake the hand of the jilted. Kong reluctantly accepted the man’s gesture. “Hi,” Kong said, staring at the man’s hand as if it contained the answers he sought.
“I’m a friend of Maddie’s dad. I’ve been their family physician since she was in diapers,” he said, smiling back at Madeline. “Maddie’s mom, Gwen, asked me to stop by.”
“Stop by? Maddie’s from West Roxbury. You practice in this neighborhood now?”
“Not quite.”
“Doc, you made a hundred mile house call?” Kong asked.
“For Maddie there would be no limits,” the doctor answered.
Madeline was still crying.
“Maddie?” Kong asked, looking past the smaller man.
“I’m going to let you two be alone. Maddie, you call me if you need anything. Do you understand?” He waited until she answered. He walked over and kissed her forehead. The tenderness of the gesture made Kong realize that the doctor knew he would never have the opportunity to do that again.
Kong walked the doctor out, for a quick moment he thought about following him; irrationally thinking that if he waited the two days until when he was supposed to come home, that this waking nightmare would be over by then.
“Maddie?” Kong asked as he walked back into the room.
She broke out into fresh sobs as he approached.
“How bad is it?” he asked, sitting where the doc had been, a ghost of his body heat still present. For a moment, Kong resented the man’s presence in his bedroom.
“I have stage-three pancreatic cancer.”
Kong’s world spun sideways, he had heard about people having vertigo, but never experienced it himself until just that moment. Had he not been sitting on the edge of the bed, he knew that he would have toppled over. As it was he had to place both hands on the mattress to keep from tipping over onto his wife.
She started to talk rapidly as she was apt to do when she was nervous; something he usually found endearing, but he kept hearing words, like cancer, and chemotherapy, life-expectancy, treatment options. It was too much for him. He could not even begin to process what she was saying.
She had barely finished her first round of chemotherapy when she died. Small sparse flakes of snow lazily drifted to the ground as he laid his beloved to rest. The day he had found out about her disease and the culminating final few weeks had been the darkest period of his life. It had taken him years to once again find any joy, slim as it may be, in the world. And he decided that he would go back to that very moment she told him what she had rather than stand in front of the Shade Queen for one more moment.
“Kong, I suggest that when you stand before me that you do not let your mind drift elsewhere,” Eliza said.
“Just remembering a happier time,” he said sarcastically. “Is this one man worth it? Even now?”
“Especially now,” she replied.
“Surely you have enough zombies here to take out one household.”
“One would think,” Eliza answered him.
“There’s another problem.”
“Do tell.”
“They found a way to stop the zombies. They reach a point in the yard and will not go any further.”
“Impossible!” she shouted. “Tomas, is this possible, does he possess the power to do such a thing?” she asked her brother.
“I do not know why you would doubt what he can and cannot do Eliza. I have begged you to stop the insanity of this quest.”
“Kong you need to get me close to the house so that I can find out for myself,” Eliza told the big man as she started to stride towards Ron’s as if she were going on a power walk during a short lunch break.
“I don’t think that’s the best idea,” he said catching up to her. He saw that he was not going to be able to dissuade her. “You two.” Kong pointed to two men that were shuttling ammo and had the unfortunate stroke of luck to be crossing their path at that very moment, “you’re both with me, put the cans down and let’s go.” He pushed both of the men in front of him, Eliza, and Tomas.
The zombies moved out of the way of the team as if they were repelled. Eliza was psychically pushing them away with her mind. The path she cut ahead of them closed neatly as they passed by, they were but a schooner in a sea of death.
CHAPTER FORTY
Mike Journal Entry 17
It took about an hour to make the basement somewhat presentable, although it would take a strong imagination to NOT see what had happened there.
“Need any help?” Gary asked, opening the basement door, I was three steps from the top.
“I think we’re good,” I told him.
BT was coming up the stairs slowly, his previous injury making his leg stiff from the awkward position he had been in while helping me clean.
“Sucks getting old,” I told him from the top of the stairs.
“I hope I have the opportunity to find out, at least I have you to live vicariously through.” He grabbed the handrail to help pull himself up.
“Great, I was going to help you the rest of the way up,” I told him as I walked away, letting the basement door shut in his face.
“Anything?” I asked Travis going to the back of the house and talking through the window.
He was behind the protective metal barrier. He shook his head so that he wouldn’t give his position away.
I walked across the house. “Anything, Dad?”
“Nothing. I’d be surprised if they tried that again.”
“Probably right,” I told him.
Mad Jack’s box was still keeping the zombies at bay and I had to think Eliza was rethinking her strategy. We could possibly have a small lull.
The household was somewhat subdued. We were in the midst of a siege, and when nothing was happening, generally boredom became the biggest problem. Fear was too strong of an emotion to sustain for long periods of time. Everybody more or less was doing what I expected them to be doing: either busy work or lying about. I tracked back across the room. There was one notable exception to my previous statement. Justin looked like he was alternating between seeking comfort and finding some deep dark place to hide.