She continued. “I want revenge Mike.”
“Jen we’ve had this conversation before.” Her eyes teared up a bit, friggen women they always know which damn buttons of mine to push. Maybe I should stop wearing mine on my sleeve. If I put them under my jacket they’d be a little tougher to get to. I pursed my lips, and shook my head.
She seemed to take that as an acknowledgement that it was okay to continue, uninterrupted. “When we got back that day, I sat in my and Jo’s bedroom. Most of the time it was with a .32 caliber pushed to my temple.” I involuntarily blew out air. “I just wanted it to be over, the pain, the hopelessness, everything. I mean what was the point right?” I found myself nodding with her. “I awoke the next morning with the gun still pressed against my head.”
“Holy crap, you were a muscle spasm away from, well you know.” I said in disbelief.
She smiled wanly. “I dreamt about Jo that night.” Her eyes got that far away look. “I dreamt about her love of life. No matter how shitty things got for her, she appreciated and looked forward to the small things in life, a cup of hot cocoa, a trip to IKEA, a new bottle of patchouli, a game of softball. Oh God I miss her.” She sobbed. I looked away for a few seconds letting her collect herself. She seemed to be indebted from the gesture. "Whew, sorry, I had to get that out. Jo would have wanted to me to live, to love, to embrace everything. Not wallow in despair. If she knew that I had wanted to kill myself she would have kicked my ass."
By the way, I would have paid to see that. Sorry just a side note.
“When I finally realized why my skull ached that morning, I pulled the gun away from my head and tossed it across the room. When it knocked over the hat I had put over the picture of me and her on our union day I knew then and there that Jo was still with me and I wouldn’t let her, or for that matter you, down again.”
‘That remained to be seen.’ I didn’t say it. I’m an immature dick, not a monster. I helped Jen down and handed her a power bar. I turned as I heard Brendan’s truck door open. Justin stepped out into the severely lit day. Embracing his blanket like only Linus could.
“God he looks so pale.” Jen said. “Almost like he’s…sorry.” She looked over to me. We were both thinking it though. Justin’s head swiveled to the left and then up and over to his right and down again, almost like he was watching a monster serve that became an ace in a tennis match. “What’s he doing?” Jen asked.
I watched as a fly circled around and around Justin’s head. Terror mounted. Well my Marine Corps buddies were going to love this, big bad ass, afraid of a fly. What was going to be next? Was I going to be scared of the French? I watched as the fly did two more circuitous routes around his head and then landed on the very tip of his nose. Justin only stared down at it, never once unwrapping his hands from under the blanket to brush the thing away. My skin crawled with unseen, many legged bugs of varying size and color. “Okay everyone, I think it’s about time to go.” I shouted, never taking my eyes off the offending fly.
“Oh don’t be a bother Talbot we just stopped.” Mrs. Deneaux said as she puffed on a cigarette. “These idiots,” She said as she swept her hand to encompass pretty much everyone. “Won’t let me smoke in the back of the truck, something or other about second hand smoke.”
“Fuck, stay, I don’t give a shit! Finish your cigarette. Finish a carton. Hell, go pull some grass, dry it out and smoke it. I’m leaving.” I answered in a yell. Mrs. Deneaux looked like she wanted to add fuel to the fire, but this wasn’t a scene at Wal-Mart where she could bitch someone out and basically get whatever her cold shriveled little heart wanted. Something in the look of my eyes must have told her that I truly would leave her there without a second thought. She ground the remainder of her smoke under her shoe.
BT came up to the rear of the truck. “Who made you boss?” His voice boomed.
“You know what BT?” I said as I tried to make myself as tall and intimidating as possible. Not an easy trick to pull off when I was pretty much looking him in the sternum.
“No, what?” He asked.
“Rhetorical BT, rhetorical. Nobody made me boss. In fact I don’t want to be boss at all. That would actually make this entire fuck fest a lot easier if I didn’t have to worry about any of my decisions getting people killed. I would like nothing more than to lie in the back of that truck and help Igor polish off whatever liquor he has stowed away. So my giant friend, feel free to take the reins of this carnival ride and do with it what you may. I’m just too tired to deal with it.”
“Aw I’m just busting your balls, Talbot.” He said as he basically just stepped up into the back of the truck. “You’re just crazy enough to get us out of this.” And then he laughed. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or petrified.
Alex had just finished up with his wife Marta, changing the baby’s diaper. “Hey Mike, what’s up? Not to be a pain in the ass, but driving this truck is a bitch. I wouldn’t mind taking a few minutes for the blood in my kidneys to start circulating again.”
I didn’t even need to turn around when I pointed behind me. Alex’s face fell. “What is it Alex?” I asked.
He tore his gaze from over my left shoulder and back to me. “What do you mean Mike? You just pointed it out to me.”
“Is it bad?”
“Are you messing with me Mike?” I shook my head in the negative. “It’s a speeder.”
“How far away?” I asked although I could almost approximate its distance as the minute tickle in my brain began to expand.
Alex looked back over my shoulder. “Maybe a quarter of a mile. What’s going on cuate? How could that thing possibly know that we’re here, we’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“I’m not sure Alex, but look at Justin.”
Alex slowly pivoted his head, reluctant to look, the day was almost already a total disaster and it wasn’t half completed. “He’s just standing there. he looks pale but no worse than he was earlier.”
“Look closer Alex.”
“What’s he looking at? Is that a fly on his nose? So?”
“What’s a fly doing out here Alex? In the dead of winter.”
“It could have been in the truck, Mike.” He said, but the words didn’t even ring true in his own head. Alex made the sign of the Holy Trinity on his chest. “Marta finish up, we’re leaving.”
The zombie crossing the snow-covered field wasn’t going to get to us any time soon, but it was disconcerting to be the prey as a predator closed in. I’m sure there isn’t a gazelle in the world that feels comfortable with a lion in the general vicinity. The fly finally alit from Justin’s face as he turned to look at our approaching company. Color rose in his cheeks, but because he was scared or enraptured was difficult to say. Tracy helped Justin back in to Brendan’s car and then looked over to me. She was worried, as was I, but for differing reasons. She was concerned with his physical well-being. I was more concerned with what was going on inside his head. I was beginning to wonder if Justin was a zombie GPS. Our own portable ‘Harmin’ or better yet how about a Zom-Zom. Wonderful, death all around and I’m making plays on product names. By the time we pulled away I was able to make out facial features on our would-be assailant. He looked none too pleased we were making a hasty retreat. In the distance I could see more of his kind begin the fruitless journey across the frozen tundra, in search of a meal. For one minute second I thought if Justin were to stay here would they stop pursuing? I said, I thought about it, this isn’t the bible I can’t get in trouble for contemplating. Eventually we were going to have to stop and fight but the middle of a highway didn’t seem like the wisest place to make our last stand.