“They’re just late calling in. You don’t know if anything is wrong,” Ron answered his nephew. It sounded flat even as he said it.
“I’m faster than any of them, I’m as good a shot as my dad. I could have kept them out of trouble,” Travis sighed, turning to face his uncle, his seventeen-year-old features strained from the stress.
“Alright, I’m not going to lie, ever since your dad was a kid, he found some of the most unusual ways to get into trouble. It’s like he has a trouble-homing beacon on so it knows where to go. But somehow he always comes out smelling sweeter than when he went in. Now, I don’t know what kind of mess he’s gotten himself into this time, but there’s no reason at all to think he’s not going to pull out of it like he always does.” Ron’s words seemed to have a measurable effect on Travis. “Come on, we’ve got a lot of work to do before they get back.” Ron wrapped his arm around Travis’ shoulder and showed him exactly where to start digging.
***
“Hi Tony, how you doing?” Tracy asked. She was sitting at the table with the radio.
“I wish they’d hurry up and get back,” he said, sitting down next to her. “This not knowing is horrible. If I was twenty years younger, I’d be out there looking for them.”
“I saw you on that on-ramp. I think you could handle yourself just fine.”
His eyes twinkled at her as he flashed a smile and grabbed her hand. “How have you put up with him so long?” Tony asked, half kidding, but also half serious. “That kid has more kinks and quirks than piping done by the Three Stooges.”
“That’s a pretty old reference, Tony, and I never liked that show growing up.”
“Butch…I mean Mike and I,” Tony started with a faraway look in his eye, “used to sit and watch it every Saturday morning. I’d seen them all, years before as a kid, but it was a way for the two of us to be together to do some bonding. I’d always wished that I had spent more time with my children as they were growing up, but Mike got the least time of any of them. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing, now that I think about it.” And then he smiled.
“Well, at least I know where he gets his humor from. They’ll be back, Tony.”
“You’re that sure?” Tony asked, looking her in the eyes.
“I am,” she answered. “Do you want me to get you some more coffee?” Tracy asked, getting up so as not to give away her illusion of holding it together.
“I would,” Tony said, handing her his cup.
As Tracy was leaving the room, she turned to answer her father-in-law. “In spite of every flaw that man possesses, and there are more than I care to count, he is a wonderful father and husband with whom I cannot imagine spending the rest of my time here on earth without. That is why I have put up with him and why I know he will be back.”
Tears welled up in Tony’s eyes.
“I’ll be right back with the coffee,” Tracy said, giving Tony some time to collect himself.
Chapter Twelve – Mike Journal Entry 8
“Oh fuck!” Was the first thing out of my mouth. In retrospect, I wish I had thought of something better. My best friend had just been dealt a death sentence and the most profound thing I could think to say was an expletive. My English teacher was going to slap me upside the head if she ever found out. And then I followed that initial bad opening statement with one almost equally as lame. “Are you sure?”
BT rolled up his sleeve. A neat half moon wound on his forearm wept blood. “And before you go asking if what bit me was a zombie, you can match the wound up to that one’s mouth,” BT said, pointing to a zombie that laid close to his legs.
I wanted to tell him that most likely wasn’t going to happen. The zombie in question appeared to have every skeletal feature in its face and skull crushed, but even still, it was easy to see that it was indeed a zombie and not some random urbanite, gone cannibal. I sat down heavily next to BT. “How long ago?”
BT looked over at me. “Couple of hours, I think, lost track of time after I pulled that trigger for the thousandth time. I was really hoping to avoid the part where you blow my head off.”
“Wait…what? I can’t do that, BT!” I exclaimed, getting back on my feet.
“Listen, pencil-neck, you are not going to let me become a zombie. I will purposefully hunt you and you alone until I eat your skinny ass.”
“Great, you can join Eliza.” I meant it as a jest, but as the reality of that statement hit, we both became silent for a moment. I tightened my grip on my rifle.
“You have to, Mike. I won’t hold it against you. I’ll talk to you when you get upstairs.”
We both stopped talking.
“This really is going to be an awkward conversation,” I said to BT, referring to his statement about running into me on the streets of Heaven.
“He has to let you in, doesn’t he?” BT asked. “I mean you’ve done so much good.”
“That’s just it, BT, there’s nothing for him to let in. Whatever corporeal part of me I housed is gone, and that, my friend, was my golden ticket. Without it, I’m just another bag of bones.”
“I would have brought more beer if I’d known we were going to have a party,” BT said.
‘What?’ my stare asked.
“You know, the whole pity party thing.”
“Not hilarious. Come on, get up,” I said, extending my hand.
“Wouldn’t it just be easier if you shot me where I sit?” BT asked.
“Come on, man, let’s just see if there’s anything we can do. Maybe the wound wasn’t deep enough to transfer the parasite. The house I just left, the lady living there is a nurse.”
“Mike, you’re stalling.”
“No shit!” I yelled at him. “How much of a rush do you think I’m in to put a bullet in my friend?”
“Okay, fair enough,” BT said as he got up. “You think a nurse in North Carolina is going to have any kind of answer for me?”
I didn’t reply. I didn’t think the Dalai Lama himself had an answer, but it bought me some time. Within a few minutes, we were within sight of Mary’s home. Some of her dinner guests had departed, but not enough of them. I’d say a good fifteen to twenty were still hanging around for some leftovers or maybe a doggie bag.
“How we going to get by them? I’ve got ten rounds,” I told BT.
“I’m fully loaded,” BT answered.
“You’re holding a bat.”
“Yup. It hasn’t ran out of ammo yet.”
“Where’s your sword?”
“It got stuck,” he answered.
I had no desire to know how it had become so imbedded in its victim that not even BT could dislodge it.
“No way, BT, we’ll figure out something else.”
“By the time you think of something else, I’ll be nibbling on your innards. Yo zombies, I’ve got something for you!” BT yelled, standing up from our hiding spot behind a small bush.
“I hate close combat, BT.”
“Don’t get anywhere near my swing; homie don’t play that,” BT said with a wild glare in his eyes.
***
“Mom! Mom! I see the big man again and Mike!” Josh shouted from his mother’s bedroom window. He had been keeping a watch out ever since his play partner had left.
Mary and Gary came running in from the kitchen.
“My God, he’s huge!” Mary exclaimed.
“What the hell is he doing?” Gary asked, watching as BT roared and brought his bat up. Gary turned slightly to his left and saw zombies running straight for BT. “They’ll kill him.” And then Gary watched in alarm as Mike stepped up next to BT. Gary ran out of the room into the living room to grab his rifle.