“Let me see if I can get up by myself.” I said, as I started to swing my legs over off the edge of the bed. My feet hit the cold wooden floor; I pushed up with my good arm and realized that my back hurt like hell. With a slight grunt, I straightened up, and started shuffling to the toilet. It amazed me how quickly one could become weak. My legs were noticeably thinner. When I got in the bathroom, I took a look at myself in the mirror. My chest was a mess of tape and gauze; my back looked about the same. My arm was taped to my chest, and then wrapped in a sling. My belly was gone. Two months of hard farm labor plus trying to save food, plus nine days without eating made for a skinny Tookes. I’m not sure I’d been that skinny since my senior year of high school. I turned around to pee, and thought, ‘Damn Tookes, you’d better sit down before you fall down.’
I sat down on the toilet, and started toying with the fabric sling. It wasn’t doing anything with my arm taped like this. I pulled it off while I sat there, and started to un-tape my arm. Every pull of tape was murder. Between the injury itself and ripping out my chest hair, I had tears in my eyes. Eventually I had my arm free. One of the things about a broken collar bone was that they took about a month to heal. I was about a quarter of the way there. I moved my arm, forward and backward, up and down. The muscles in my chest were stiff, my shoulder was stiff. I slowly stood up, straightened my shoulders and felt my sternum crack. I held my arm against my chest and slipped the sling back over my neck. There was some pain, but overall much better than I’d expected.
I came out of the bathroom, and started looking around for a shirt. I needed to go see what the place looked like. I found my shirt, and started for the stairs. Leo was in front of me in a flash.
“Tookes. What do you think you’re doing?” She asked; her hand on my good shoulder.
“I need to go see the place. I know you don’t understand, but something is coming, and it’s coming now. Where is Max? I need to check on him.”
21. Visitors
Downstairs in the smaller dining room I found Max, coloring in a Sesame Street coloring book. He was on the last page, having colored the entire thing.
“Daddy!” he yelled, as he came running across the room. “I knew you would wake up!” He jumped into my arms, except I only had one arm.
I caught him as best I was able, turning my body so he launched onto my side. I held him in my good arm, and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you, buddy. I missed you so much while I was asleep.”
“I missed you too, Daddy, but I sat with you while you slept, and I kissed you every morning and every night at bedtime. We always give kisses at bedtime!”
I was nearly in tears, my little boy was here, he was happy and healthy and everything was going to be alright. He had that amazing power. All the other things he could do, that feeling was the most powerful. And it had nothing to do with his encounter at the day care nearly three months ago.
He gave me a kiss on the cheek and said, “Look what I made for you! You can’t guess what it is!” He showed me a picture that was clearly Max and I holding hands outside in a flower garden.
“Is it a picture of a banana?” I asked.
“No!”
“Is it a truck?”
“No!”
“Is it Max and Daddy standing in the flowers?”
“Yes!” he said excitedly.
I heard a radio chirp in the background. “Max, can you finish coloring? I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” I bent down and kissed him on the cheek.
“Don’t worry, Daddy; Uncle Marshall is smarter than these guys.” Max said plainly.
Goosebumps raised on the back of my neck. I ran, as best I could on my weak legs towards the living room. Down a hall, through the main dining room and up into the living room, where I knew I’d find my guns and the front door of the house. I grabbed my pistol and the scoped 30.06 I called Sammie, and my magazine bag, and stepped up to the windows.
From the middle of the room I brought the rifle up to my eye and peered through the scope. There were trucks lined up on the highway by the entrance gates, nearly half a mile away. I took off up the back steps and opened the doors on the Juliet balcony, and laid down on my belly on the floor. It took me several tries to figure out how to get my left arm into position, and then several more tries to get the gun lined up. I watched through the scope as they brought some bolt cutters out of one of the truck. I’d forgotten to grab a radio, and wasn’t in any shape to get up and go get one, so I just yelled, “They’re cutting the chain on the gate! I need a radio!”
My voice was a little louder than I intended. From right behind me Max said, “I brought your radio and the talking necklace.”
“Oh Max, thank you buddy! You’re so smart. This might get very loud buddy; I need you to go into our room and play. Close the door, and don’t open it unless it’s someone who lives here, okay? Can you do that?” He didn’t move, “Now Max! Go Now!” I said firmly. His bottom lip stuck out, I’ve almost never spoken sternly to him, and he walked off to our room and closed the door.
I half rolled onto my good side, grabbed the radio and slid the throat mic around my neck. I had no idea where it came from, but it was nice, especially being one armed. I spoke into the radio “They’re cutting the chain on the gate. What’s the plan?”
“Vic, where are you?” my brother asked.
“I’m upstairs in the library, watching out the balcony doors.”
“Leo and John have something planned, watch for them and move on their signal. I’m glad to hear you’re up and around. Sorry I haven’t been able to get up to see you since you woke up.”
“No prob.” I said. “You got a lot done, I’m glad you’re here to take care of Max. I’m sorry I got myself shot and took a nine day vacation.”
“You should be. Now shut up, watch the show, and be ready to offer support. They’re in position. I liberated your .50 cal by the way. I wish you’d grabbed some more bullets. Next time, could you try and think that through a little better?”
“I took the whole case!”
“Vic, always with the excuses!” Marshall said.
“Sorry Marshall, next time there’s a zombie apocalypse, I’ll call ahead and order a pallet of ammunition. Anything else you’d like me to get?”
John’s voice came over the radio, his Australian accent thick “Would you shut it? Do I have to do all the work here?”
I watched the trees for any sign of wind. It was dry out and warm. Bullets would fly straight and true. It was a half-mile shot. Nine hundred yards. Thirty-two feet of bullet drop. My scope would compensate for twenty, I had to aim twelve feet above my target. Figuring the average man is just about six feet, I need to aim for his head as if he was three times taller. I made a couple practice sweeps. Line up the head on the bottom most cross in the scope. Make a note of something that is at the third cross down from the top. A rock, a line, a crack in the pavement, whatever. Adjust aim to put that pavement crack on the bottom lines of the scope. Inhale, inhale, inhale, exhale. I was ready.
Suddenly, Leo was directly in front of them on the other side of the gate. Her mic was open, I heard her say, “Can I help you gentlemen with something?”
I couldn’t hear the response, but Leo blurred away, behind a tree to the left. A shot rang out, and half a second later, the bolt cutters flew out of his hands. John was close to me, but far from them. Distance was hard to figure based on delay, but I’d guess he was somewhere around four hundred yards away. And if I knew John, he was using a 9mm pistol.