“God gets it!” I shouted at him.
“What? What are you talking about?” Gary asked.
He was completely oblivious about what he had been doing. Catholics were used to doing things by rote. If you have never been to a Mass, it consists of a lot of sitting, kneeling, bending and the damn shaking of strangers’ hands. It’s not the people that I can’t stand nearly as much as the germs that they have on them. I’m concerned about where MY hands have been and I KNOW. Only God knows where Joe Schmoe’s hands have been. Who knows, maybe he has an incurable case of pubic lice and he’s been feverishly scratching his nether regions moments before he grasps your hand in mock friendship. I don’t know, but that’s what I’m thinking. I once saw a video on YouTube where a lady on a public train once shoved her hand down the crack of her ass and then pulled it out to give it a good licking. Yeah, you read my entry right, I wrote LICKING. Sniffing would be bad enough, but LICKING? Are you kidding me? I almost upchucked on my monitor. What if that bitch is sitting next to me in church! Still stalling about the climb up the ladder in case you hadn’t noticed.
Gary had started back up while I was having my inner dialog. “… they’re up on the top of this castle slash ranger station and Glenn (Sign of the Trinity – I sighed heavily) asks Mike if he wants a better view.” “This doesn’t sound like it worked out well for you Mike!” BT shouted.
I flipped BT off. It had absolutely no effect on the big man as he laughed it off.
“So Glenn (SotT – guess what it stands for. I have to write this journal out with a pencil and I’m sick of repeating the same thing over and over) hoists Mike up.” My breathing started to accelerate just thinking about what was to come.
“Immediately flips him over and hangs him upside down by his ankles outside the window.”
“Oh my God!” Tracy exclaimed.
“Glenn (SotT) was a wild man,” Gary said with his head bowed.
“Damn Mike, I’m sorry I was messing with you. That would be a head fest for any one, especially a seven-year-old,” BT said. “Now get your ass up here.” “Is that your version of tough love?” I asked him.
“There are zombies getting on the truck,” the guy I hadn’t met yet shouted.
Henry started barking, something he only does under extreme duress, and zombies closing in was apparently on his sliding scale of bark-worthy events, that and doggie ice cream treats, but I hadn’t heard the ice cream man coming.
Eliza and Tomas Interlude
“Are you controlling the zombies’ motor skills, Brother?”
“Yes, do you like it?”
Eliza did not answer her brother. For the first time in a very, very long time, an unfamiliar feeling jolted through her frozen veins. She thought it might be fear.
“Not much choice Mike!” Paul shouted, trying to motivate me.
I think it was a bit of overkill, what do you think? I had zombies climbing up the truck. They didn’t give a damn about any of my myriad of phobias. I absolutely detest heights, but being eaten alive trumps even that. I was halfway up the truck ladder when the fastest of the zombies stepped onto the rungs. I watched him in disbelief as he tried to coordinate the placement of his hands and feet. He looked like a puppet controlled by an inept puppeteer, but that he was even trying this was a frightening new development.
“Brian, could you tie the end of that rope down and toss it to me?” I asked him.
He unslung it from his shoulder, retreated for a minute or two, and then tossed the rope into my face.
“Great idea Mike!” Tracy said in encouragement.
“She’s not going to like this,” I said softly to Henry.
I began to tie a make shift harness around Henry, kind of like what I’ve seen on Animal Planet when they have to hoist a cow out of a well or something.
“Oh for Christ’s sakes Mike, what the hell are you doing?” Tracy asked with chagrin, “That damn dog.” “This damn dog saved your daughter’s life and mine! I shouted back. She backed down but she was not a happy camper.
I no sooner got the harness as snug as possible when Henry brushed by me. He was either showing me the way or saving his ass, no sense in the both of us perishing here. Henry kept his gaze focused solely on the roof he was striding for. His paws splayed out as he stepped on the rungs; he seemed pretty sure of himself. On second thought, I might have been better off using the rope myself. Although I don’t know how Henry was going to climb the ladder once he got to the incline.
“Mike, why are they following you?” Alex asked.
“Really Alex? That’s the question you’re going to ask?” I asked sardonically, looking up at him.
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Any chance one of you guys could maybe shoot the zombie s ?” I asked. “Instead of watching.” “Sorry, Dad,” Travis said. “I’ve just never seen them do that.”
“I told you Mike was trouble,” Mrs. Deneaux said to her audience.
Almost as one the group turned on her and told her in varying ways to shut the hell up. I would have savored it a lot more if I wasn’t on a swaying ladder suspended above zombies, frozen by a phobia my crazy ass brother thrust upon me some thirty-eight years prior.
Travis’ shot went wide of the zombie’s forehead. I couldn’t blame him, the wind had picked up and the ladder was moving a good twenty to twenty-four inches back and forth. The fact that he ripped the damn thing’s ear off was impressive enough and the force of the bullet was enough to dislodge him from the ladder, which was just as effective as a kill. I climbed two more rungs when another shot rang out followed in quick succession by two more.
“Dad, they’re getting better at climbing,” Travis shouted.
“Don’t turn around Mike,” Paul said.
So of course the first thing I did was just that. A line of zombies was making the ascent and they were getting close enough that covering fire was going to be extremely difficult.
“You’d better get going,” Brian said needlessly.
“And they always said Army guys were ignorant,” I mumbled.
“I heard that,” Brian said. “Now get up here so that we can settle this like gentlemen.”
I was moving a little quicker but I was making Meredith’s five minute snail pace seem pretty damn impressive.
“You’ve got a ten-foot cushion,” BT said just as I made it to the junction from the fire truck ladder to our make-shift bridge.
“How’s Henry doing?” I asked, too fearful to look up.
“Better than you,” BT said.
‘I’m screwed,’ I thought to myself. As soon as two or three of the zombies got on the ladder with me, the added weight would pull the skids right off the roof.
“I’m not going to make it,” I said looking up into my wife’s eyes.
“You get moving Talbot or I’m coming down there to get you,” she said, and she wasn’t kidding. BT grabbed her elbow as she began to climb over the wall.
“Just wait, this isn’t the way Mike goes out. It isn’t climactic enough,” BT reassured her.
“This isn’t a movie or a book, BT, and last I checked you didn’t have the power of precognizance!” she shouted in his face. “For all we know he could die on that ladder by scraping his hand and getting an infection. That wouldn’t be climactic at all, in fact, I’d call that very anti-climactic, but it would still be a reality. Now let me go so that I can get my husband up here!” “Don’t you dare let her go!” I shouted to BT. “If I die here, it’ll be alone!”
A thick rope almost toppled me off my perch. “Wrap that around your waist Mike!” Paul screamed. “Fast!!” I was never great with knots, maybe I should have joined the Navy, but in a pinch I can tie a double granny like nobody’s business.