“I’d rather bite the head off a bat.”
I could tell Eddy was wondering if I was serious or not, and also when I might get around to doing just that, because that would also be awesome.
A minute later, myself, Brendon, Travis, Alex, and BT were standing behind a beaming Eddy, who seemed so pleased that he was the one that found something that we were all so excited to see.
I pulled out a large dusty box from the back of the sheriff’s coat closet. The box had suspiciously been ripped open from the bottom. Eddy flushed as the damaged box came into full view.
I tousled his hair. “You did good kid.” He stood up straighter, pride swelling his small chest.
BT finished what Eddy had started. Three more ‘sleds’ spilled on to the floor along with at least 10 gun shaped tasers, boxes of shotgun bean bag rounds and canisters of tear gas along with 5 gas masks.
“Why in the hell does a sheriff’s office in the friggen middle of nowhere have all this gear?” Brendon asked.
I shook my head.
BT spoke up. “Back after 9/11, when the feds thought that a terrorist plot was being hatched everywhere, they sent these riot control packages to just about every police force in the country.”
“Ah, our federal tax dollars at work.” Alex said sarcastically.
“Yeah this shit just might save our lives though.” I answered. Alex nodded in agreement.
Travis was busy grabbing the bean bag rounds, they might not be fatal but up close they could still do some real damage.
CHAPTER 12 
“Ready?”
“Why do you keep asking me that, Mike?” Alex fumed. His body heat causing a sauna in his makeshift armor. “I just want to get this over with so I can get out of all these clothes.”
“Brendon you all set?” I asked. His stance said he was all set, but his eyes belied him.
BT must have picked up on Brendon’s hesitancy because for the fourth time he offered to do what Brendon was about to.
I looked at BT with my best expression of exasperation. “BT we’ve been through this.”
“But he’s just a kid, Talbot.”
“Dad?” Nicole asked, her eyes expressing volumes. Her unspoken words of why was I putting her fiancee in danger.
I had fully intended on playing the role Brendon was about to embark on but my ankles, knees, and back made a stand-in necessary.
“Who else Nicole?” I begged for her forgiveness.
The hurt of being let down shone through clearly in her eyes. The pain of my injuries paled in comparison.
“Talbot there has got to be a better way.” Tracy chimed in.
“Et tu Brutus?” I said in desperation.
“Mike let’s do this.” Brendon said saving me from the accusations, as he hefted up two riot shields. Covering most of his front and all of his sides he looked like the world’s largest beetle. I prayed that it would be enough.
“Just hit the hole hard and always keep your legs moving.” Travis the football player threw in for good measure.
“Alex you stay close in behind him. But if he gets stuck you have to come back.” I said, the implied meaning was obvious to everyone. If Brendon couldn’t break a hole through the zombies he would be at their mercy, and that was not an attribute they possessed.
“Mike for God’s sake, I can’t leave him behind!” Alex beseeched.
“There is no God.” I said flatly.
Marta hastily did the sign of the trinity on her chest in preparation to ward off the almighty’s smiting of my heresy.
“Alex the train is leaving, you coming?” Brendon asked. He turned to give my weeping daughter a long soulful kiss.
I turned away embarrassed and yes I have to admit a little pissed. She would always be my little girl, if only in my memories, but that illusion was threatened every time I had to witness these intrusions into my fantasy world. It was much easier in my own world not having to think of my little princess doing adult things….much, much easier.
Nicole’s gaze of disappointment in me slid across my face, before she turned to go further back into the jailhouse, hesitant to witness firsthand the events that were about to shake out. No matter how this turned out Nicole and I had just come to a turning point in our relationship. No longer would she look to me as the man that could solve all of her problems, another tiny death suffered. Each one amounted to a paper cut on my soul, as they stood singly not enough to kill me but accumulatively would fray the vestiges of my humanity.
“Stay low.” I offered.
Brendon snorted twice, he was psyching himself up. The zombies pressed in on the bars their arms swinging wildly back and forth like speed metal concert-goers on crack. Brendon backed up ten feet to get as much speed going as was possible. Alex had a tough time keeping up encumbered in his extra clothing. The plan almost came to a screeching devastating halt as Brendon failed to heed my last words to him. The top right edge of his shield clipped the bars as he entered into the opening. His forward momentum spun him to the right. He had nearly toppled over and into the arms of the zombies. God, divine intervention, sheer blind luck, who fucken knows but something kept him from going over. Alex had just reached the opening as Brendon’s shield made first contact.
Ulnas, radii and humorous bones, first bent unnaturally, twisted perversely and then snapped normally. Brendon’s propulsion, even with the stumbling, easily took him halfway to his destination. I tried my best to equate the snapping of bones to that of wood being chopped. It didn’t work so well, more than one person in our group was sick from the explosion of noise. The forest of arms persisted though and I could see that Brendon’s initial inertia was slowing. The danger was that once the injured zombies retreated and their healthier brethren filled in the void any and all chance of escape would be cut off. We didn’t have the ammo or safe enough shooting angles to extract them. He would literally be four feet away but it might as well be four thousand. Alex sensing that they weren’t moving forward fast enough, plowed into Brendon’s back willing him forward through sheer sense of desperation and instinct. Miraculously or not some of the last zombies on the line pulled their arms out, most likely to try and prevent any unnecessary injuries. What would a good zombie doctor charge for a house call out in the country? A chicken brain at the least? A cow brain max.
Brendon stepped onto the truck’s running board placing his shield between the truck and the cage. It was a tight fit but Alex was able to get between Brendon and the bars to heft himself into the cab. Brendon quickly followed, dropping the shields down into the prying arms of the resurging enemy.
“Hope he’s got the keys.” BT said as he stepped up alongside me.
“Not fucking funny BT. Not fucking funny at all.” I knew it was a joke but the relief that flooded through me when I heard the truck engine turnover was palpable, if only to myself.
Brendon gave me the thumbs up sign. Now I knew it was our turn. Once that truck pulled away we would have seconds to clear the cage from the door, and judging by the added weight of all the zombies that were still tangled up in it this was not going to be easy. But is anything in life worthwhile ever easy, as my dad would say. I guess life is worthwhile, ergo it made sense that we should try as hard as we could to make this happen.
“Wouldn’t it just be easier if they tied the gate to the truck and just pulled it away?” Joann asked having come up to get a closer look.
Without turning to face her I answered. “Easier if it worked, disastrous if it didn’t.” I didn’t wait for her to ask the inevitable ‘How so?’ I kept rambling on. “If the gate doesn’t come straight out, there’s a good chance he’d rip the door frame right out of this building. No sense in having a door if we don’t have anything to close it on. Secondly the gate could get hung up under the truck and if that truck gets stopped…”
“I get the picture.” Joann answered. I could feel her shudder, the tiny fluctuations of displaced air rippled up my arms. I had sympathy shudders with her, that or someone had walked over my grave, which I hoped wasn’t in the nearby vicinity. Somewhere in Quebec would be cool. Hell Switzerland would be even better. I figured my odds
