“You know I love you right?”
He nearly tore his gaze away to see what my major malfunction was but even my seeming traverse into feminity couldn’t pull him away from the projected task at hand. “Dad.” He fairly squirmed as he said it. It was good to see that under that steely-eyed mask was the kid who I had been tossing the football around with recently.
“I just want you to know son, no matter what happens, it’s…look at me.” He turned. “It’s important to remember it’s not about the killing.” By the stare in his eyes I could tell that he was not grasping the meaning of my words. “Trav it’s not about the killing, it’s about the living. We kill so that we may live.”
“Dad that’s what I’m doing.” He said in that perfect teenage tone, that implies he is master of all he surveys. “That’s what we’re all doing.”
“It’s a fine line we walk son. I take absolutely no joy in these kills.” He gaze dipped. “As soon as we take enjoyment in the killing of others no matter what the state of them we have already lost.”
“Lost what, dad?”
“Our humanity. We fight and we kill to protect ourselves and those we love because there is no stronger bond than family. When all else goes to shit, we are all that we have to rely on.”
“Like it has?”
“Like it has.” I agreed. “We’re it. We are our last line of defense. I would die a thousand deaths before I so much as thought one of you might get hurt. That is a heavy burden to carry. Someday when you have a family of your own it will be your burden to carry. We kill these monsters because we have too, not because we want to. It’s a fine distinction Travis and I just don’t want you to get lost along the way.” I tousled his hair (which pissed him off) told him I loved him and walked away before he saw the glistening in my eyes that had more to do with my inner feelings. Like any teenager, I figure he grasped about 10% of what I was shooting for. It would be many long years (which I earnestly hoped he had) of deep reflection of this day. He would come to his own conclusion. I either made my point or I did not. With my death it would be something he would dwell on constantly. If my death kept him from losing himself in the battle then it would be worth it.
I had just finished masking the majority of my leaky duct works when I came across Nicole, she was hovering close to Brendon without making it look too obvious that was what she was doing. “Hey sweetie. How’s my favorite daughter?” It was an old joke between us.
“Hey dad.” Her smile put a glimmer of light in my blackened heart. Nicole was as intuitive as they come and saw no real reason to mince words. “Dad, I’ve seen you making your rounds, what gives?”
“Just giving the pre-battle pep talk.” I lied badly. She didn’t buy it.
“Dad?!” She fairly demanded. I thought she might even stomp her foot like she would when she was five and didn’t get her way.
A parent’s first instinct is to protect their children and that was my first inclination. I was going to blow off Nicole’s concerns and gloss it over with frivolities. She would have seen through it for sure but it would have got me out from under her questioning stare. I decided to temper the truth. This time she let me get away with it. “I just don’t have a good feeling about tomorrow, Coley.” I hugged her fiercely.
“It’ll be alright dad.” She said halfway between a statement and a question. I am supposed to be the rock with which my kids can crash their concerns against. But this rock was feeling a little spongy at the moment.
Brendon saved the day. “Hey Mike, we’re all set, I’m gonna turn in before the fireworks begin. You coming Coley?” He asked.
“Thanks Brendon.” My dual recognition of his work and pulling Nicole away, was not lost on him.
Nicole looked long and hard at me. Trying her best to ascertain the underlying truth beneath my veiled words before she turned and followed her betrothed. “Good night dad.” She called back. “I love you.”
I croaked out an ‘I love you too.’ Thankful for the darkness in the night that hid the waterworks. I had thought I had completely escaped with my manhood unscathed, I was wrong.
“Alright Talbot, out with it.” Tracy had come up behind me and had startled the hell out of me.
Nothing but the truth was going to appease her and my mind was entirely too befuddled to come up with anything even fairly convincing. “Tommy hugged me.” I told her, sounded kind of pathetic when I put it that way.
“And?”
“And what?”
“What’s the rest of it? Tommy gave you a hug, he does that all the time.”
“He…he told me he was sorry.”
“Sorry for what? Talbot what aren’t you telling me? One of the most lovable kids in the world gives you a hug and then apologizes. I don’t see why that is making you walk around all long faced and telling everyone what a great job they’re doing and that you love them.” I watched as the light of recognition came on in Tracy’s awareness and then she did something I never figured, she laughed. “Oh that’s it! You think you’re going to die tomorrow! That’s hilarious!”
“But…but Tommy hugged me.”
Her laugh stopped mid-stream. Her index finger of doom, lashed out. “Listen Talbot!” I was. “You are not dying tomorrow or the next day for that matter or any time soon, I won’t allow it! You cannot leave me alone in this nightmare!” Her index finger turned into a loose fist as she hollowly punched me in the chest, her forgotten laugh approaching a sob. “I won’t allow it!” She screamed. I was too stunned to even reply. Work that was nearly completed started again as people scrambled to look busy before Tracy could turn her angst on them. She turned and headed back to the room. The zombies waited patiently below.
CHAPTER 19 
The morning brought sunlight, and that was the end of the good news. Two hundred maybe two hundred and fifty zombies stirred below and more were coming. We could see them approaching across frozen fields, from the highway and from God (if he cared) knows where. Let’s see I could use, like a moth to a flame, or maybe a lawyer to a car accident or maybe just the truth, like a zombie to a brain buffet. We could hear some of the zombies that had broken through into the rooms below and the lobby.
A large sheet of glass shattered as Tommy came up to the railing. “That’s the Kit-Kat machine, Mr. T. Whew pretty glad I got them all out last night.” He was grinning as he hefted up a pillowcase stuffed to the brim with the bars.
Our encounter last night didn’t seem to be on his radar at all. Was he purposefully suppressing it or had I made too much out of it? Questions, questions and no fucking answers, isn’t that the way of the world?
BT opened fire. The bloodbath had begun. Travis had waited as long as he could. The Mossberg thundered through the air followed shortly thereafter by the high concussion rounds of Denmark’s AK-47. The smell of iron rich blood as it poured down storm drains nearly masked the stench of the dead. Body parts littered the ground, blown clean off under the strain of trying to capture a high-speed lead projectile. Rotten half-digested stomach contents spilled out of lacerated intestines. Zombies were becoming mired in the detritus of body parts. More than one zombie fell over entangled in it’s own bowels. The smell of shit, believe it or not, was entirely more welcome than the gangrenous odor of the dead. Denmark’s rapid rate of fire and seemingly endless supply of ammunition had nearly halved the opposing force. Jen and Brendon had by now joined in to the chorus of destruction. Heads blew out their contents. Bone and brain pattered down like the world’s most macabre hailstorm. The parking lot became bathed in hues of reds and browns. The light snow that fell did little to hide the destruction. It more than anything else, highlighted the contrast between its purity and the stained contents of the zombies.
My grief was heavy as I shouldered my weapon and did my part to eradicate the world of what evolution had now deemed the dominant species. Three magazines later of carefully aimed shots I called for a ceasefire. Three shouts later my command was heeded. Not much stood save a smallish, maybe ten year old boy. I turned my head away just as I saw a green laser dot clearly outlined on the boy’s throat. I didn’t know which hit the ground first, the boy’s body or his decapitated head. Both rang hollowly in my ears.
“We showed them!” Denmark barked. His jubilation joined by the others.
“Showed them what!’ I bellowed. “Do you think they give a shit? Do you think some other zombies are going to stumble across this and think ‘Hum, maybe we shouldn’t fuck with those humans, they’re bad ass. They don’t care. They’ll just keep coming, our former friends, our relatives, our post men.” I looked directly at Denmark, his gaze dropped. “They’re not going to build a memorial for their fallen comrades. They’re just going to keep coming
