BT was standing over my prone body, finger roughly the size of a Johnsonville Sausage pointing in my face. “You ever leave me with your crazy ass family again and it will be hours before you're able to get your ass up off the ground.” "BT!" Tracy yelled.
I put my hand up, “It's all right, I deserved that.” BT grabbed my hand and hoisted me up.
"Good to see you man,” BT said grabbing me tight.
There was something comforting about being embraced in steel cabling.
"Mike, everything all right?" Brian asked breathlessly as he and Perla came running up with weapons at the ready.
"Who are these fools?" BT asked, letting me go.
"Replacement friends,” I told him. He looked down on me with a frown. “They don’t punch me.” "Come on, I barely touched you,” BT groused.
"And yet I found myself on the ground,” I told him.
"Not my damn fault you didn’t like your greens when you were growing up.”
"You know not everyone had their collard greens infused with Human Growth Hormones.”
"What can I say? My momma loved me.”
Brian pulled up a little short when he got closer. I think that was the only way he could get all of BT in his field of vision. “Mike?" he asked cautiously.
I rubbed my jaw. Eating anything with more chew to it than peas for the next few days was going to be a chore. “BT, this is Brian Wamsley, another military man.” "Oh for the love of God, where do they all come from, do they breed them with rabbits?” BT said.
"Nice to meet you too,” Brian said.
"Oh it's nothing against you personally, it's just that recently I have found Marines to be the least likely to think before they act and that always leads to trouble. This shi tbird here has been trying to get me killed for the last four months. And when he couldn’t succeed, he left me with his clinically insane family to see if they could push me over the edge to do myself in,” "I wasn’t in the military,” Perla said smiling. "So I should be okay,” as she came up to shake BT's hand.
"Yeah, but you’re hanging out with them so it's crazy by proxy,” BT told her.
"Don’t listen to him, he's this friendly with everyone,” Tracy told Perla and Brian.
"Hey, Uncle Mike,” Meredith said diffidently; she had been standing behind BT and I had missed her completely.
"Oh no, there is no way your dad knew you were coming. I am so screwed!"
"Glad to see you too!" she cried back.
"No, no, that's not what I meant.”
"See, this is what I'm talking about, typical Marine. Screw up first and then try to correct later,” BT threw into the mix. I pointed a mean looking finger at BT. “Get that straw outta my face, what are you gonna do, make me a milkshake?"
"Meredith no, it’s awesome to see you. It's just that this isn’t like a family reunion-type setting, it's pretty crappy out here.” She didn’t seem appeased. “I think I have a pretty good idea of how bad it is out here, we were all almost killed a couple of times,” she blurted out.
Tracy was holding up her hands trying to hold back the flood of words as Meredith graphically and in rich detail laid out all the events of the last few days. I thought Perla was going to collapse.
Unfortunately it seemed an all too standard relating of unfolding events to me. That it happened to my wife, niece and closest friend while I was not there to help almost made my rail-running heartbeat slide off the tracks. I was about to lay into Tracy about why she had put herself and everyone else in danger by coming back when she stopped me dead in my tracks with her next words.
"I wasn't ready to say goodbye.”
What do you say to that? What can you possibly say that doesn’t make you sound like a big asshole?
"I, uh, yeah, we should probably get going, looks like a storm is brewing.”
"One more thing Mike,” Tracy said as she opened her door. My fat bottomed fawn colored Henry came padding out from her side of the car. His huge tongue was lolling as he ran to me, oversized jowls flapping in the wind like the useless wings on a dodo bird.
"No way!" I said as I nearly cried, dropping to my knees. Henry bowled me over like I was a lone bowling pin and he was going for a spare. Drool coated me from goatee to my forehead, and I loved every gross part of it!
As Tracy got into the car and they got rolling again, BT looked over at her and laughed. “Wow, you hit harder than I do.” "Damn Aunt Tracy, I will never underestimate you, you rock!" Meredith told her.
"How hard did you hit him?" Tracy asked with her own smile.
"Oh, I smacked the hell out of him,” BT laughed.
They drove up to where the pick-up was parked so that brief introductions could be made and Tracy could give and get hugs from her boys. Mike still seemed to be reeling, whether from the physical blow or the psychological one, she didn’t know.
Perla and Cindy got into Tracy's car. Our next stop was going to be the very next exit where we would find some sort of transportation for Brian, Jack and the women. First off so they could get out of the rain that was about to hit, and second it would be yet another opportunity for them to go their own way. I had my doubts they would do so, but it would ease my conscience. I had yet to disclose everything so they were not making a completely informed decision.
We had no sooner pulled off the highway and there were a couple of fast food joints. Oh for some onion rings. And a boot outlet store with ten or so cars and trucks in the lot. Brian motioned for me to go in there.
When I pulled in I got out of the truck. Tracy pulled in behind, my heart still tripping at the sight of her. “You know how to hot wire a car?" I asked Brian.
"No, but Jack's got an idea,” he told me vaguely.
Jack walked up to the doors of the boot store and when they didn’t open he gave them a .223 caliber reason to do so. The shattering glass rivaled the percussions of the bullets.
"Army men!" BT said exasperatedly. “Do they remove the brain stem BEFORE or AFTER boot camp?” "During,” Brian replied.
Jack's boots crunched over the smashed glass. “Hostiles!" he yelled. He motioned with his free hand first five and then another three.
Within seconds Travis, Justin, myself, BT, Brian, Cindy and Perla had him completely flanked. He backed up to be within our firing line as opposed to being in front. We stayed about fifteen feet from the front of the store and then they came, a worse looking lot of zombies we would have had a difficult time finding. Flesh was sloughing off their faces; the putrid smell of feces and decomposition wafted from the store. Perla took a moment to put her stomach into check, but everyone else stood firm.
The first zombie out was a girl maybe in her early twenties. Her green tinged skin made age identification an impossibly difficult feat, it had more to do with her clothing. She had on a sun dress, a leather jacket and boots. I think it was Cindy who took the first shot, drilled her right in the head, most likely more for the fashion infringement than for being a zombie.