The End ....

him.

'Hi Mr. Dad. Are you mad?'

'Tommy, I'm going to hold off making any rash comment or decision while you completely explain what is going on,' I said tight-lipped, at least as tight-lipped as one can while they're thinking the words instead of saying them. I could tell my tone was conveyed by the way Tommy's mood changed. Now don't go getting all judgmental on me. I hadn't yet said anything cross to Tommy. You have to remember that Tommy's mere presence was endangering my entire family. What an egotist I was to believe that I was anything other than a plaything for Eliza. She cared less for me than the dirt she carried under her fingernails.

'She's my sister, Mr. T.'

The reversal back to 'Mr. T' and not 'Dad' did not go unnoticed by me. We might be 'family' but Eliza and Tommy were true family. Tommy related the story of his cruel upbringing in 1500's Germany and how his sister 'Lizzie' ('how fucking cute' I thought) was the only person that stood up for him. She would chase away the town boys that would throw rocks at the 'possessed boy.' She would step in front of her father's heavy hand whenever he felt the need to take out his own insecurities on his 'ruined' son.

I got the picture, Lizzie was the world upon which he revolved. I could feel the pain Tomas had suffered as his sister was dragged away and sold into slavery. Tommy was trying to accentuate his story by letting me in on his own emotional distress. It was a low but effective strategy. The linked empathy had me nearly on the verge of tears. I was thankful the interior of the hummer was not lit very well by the dash lights.

'When I finally caught up to her, the devil had already marked her soul.'

That would imply that she still had one. I was fairly certain that ship had sailed and much like the Titanic had met a watery grave.

'I can fix her though, Mr. T. I know I can.'

'How long have you been trying Tommy? How many others' lives, hopes and dreams have you ruined in an attempt to fix what may be broken beyond repair?' I answered him.

His refusal to reply to my barb, infuriated me. 'Now you dare to take my family down that same path!' I was screaming in my head, my fingers clenched the steering wheel, knuckles turning white under the strain.

Tommy, who had been leaning slightly forward with his head in his hands, fell back against the seat as if he was physically pushed. 'I never meant it to be like this Mr. T,' his words soaked in tears.

I honestly didn't care at this point whether he meant it or not, my BS meter was pegged in the red. Everything he said from this point forward was going to be tainted. 'Are you a vampire?' I asked him.

He mentally shook his head in the negative.

'How then?' I asked as in 'How are you still alive after 500 plus years?'

'After she was bitten, she bit me but she didn't drink. Because she remembered me and she loved me and she couldn't. But something still happened because here I am. I have followed her ever since.'

'So what's happened differently? Why is she now following YOU?' I asked, emphasizing the 'you'.

'She's dying, Mr. T.'

'What's the down side?' The words shot across my brain before I had even a moment to reflect on the pain they would administer.

Tommy began to openly weep. Tracy wrapped her arm around him. 'It's okay, we're safe now,' she said, words she had no faith in.

We could be, I thought to myself as I closed the door to mine and Tommy's dialog.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN - JOURNAL ENTRY 21 -

The hummer's gas gauge was rapidly approaching 'E', and there were no all night service stations open, at least not in this part of Pennsylvania. Sometimes it sucked being human. We needed food but even more importantly we needed rest, especially me. Most everyone in the hummer at some point had dozed on and off during our escape except for me. Scratch that, I caught a few Road Z's too. Damn near scared the crap out of myself when I jerked awake; the flood of adrenaline sending needle daggers through my arms and the back of my head.

The boost had juiced me for another half hour or so but I was tapped physically and mentally. The main question now became where do we stop? We couldn't defend ourselves against rabid woodchucks right now. Luck that had seemingly been in inexhaustible supply was now looking as barren as the gas tank.

'Talbot, we're still moving?' Tracy asked rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

I got a little piqued. I think it had more to do with the sleep deprivation. But yeah I was still effen driving. Nobody else wanted to sit in the meat pie I found myself adhered to. I was able to pull most of the discontent out of my reply. 'Not for much longer though.'

'Where are we?' She continued.

(Thought reply – bad) 'Well, maybe if you had stayed awake and kept me company you'd know!' (Actual reply – good) 'Somewhere just inside Pennsylvania, a place called Clarion.'

'It's starting to get light out.'

(Thought reply – bad) 'Yeah, amazing what happens when you drive for 8 hours straight.' (Actual reply – good) Didn't have one, decided to keep my mouth shut.

'You need to rest,' she said matter-of-factly.

'You think?' Here came my dumb-ass, dripping with sarcasm reply. Time to back-peddle before she could call me on it. 'Sorry, I'm wiped.'

She gave me the 'You're lucky you saved our lives last night or you'd be suffering my wrath' look.

BT sat bolt upright and yelled, 'what the hell is that!?'

I nearly drove the hummer off the roadway. 'What!! What do you see?' I yelled in reply.

Everyone was now wide-awake looking out the windows trying to see what new and unusual death deliverer was heading our way.

'Oh my God!' Travis yelled. 'Henry crapped back here. Dad, you need to pull over quick, I can't breathe!'

The entire hummer took on the smell of Henry's offal. What could he have possibly eaten that could come out on the other end that bad? A moldy rat-meat burrito perhaps, or maybe a liverwurst stuffed crepe. Who knows, but it was the first time since I got in this hummer that I had completely forgotten about what I was sitting in. I somehow managed to make anti-lock brakes skid down I-80. I set records for the distance it took to stop that truck. Doors nearly came unhinged as everyone struggled to make a mass exodus at the same time. It didn't work so well, something about quantum physics and how two different masses of matter (meaning passengers) cannot occupy the same space at the same time (meaning the exits).

Gore clung to the seat and sides of my legs and thighs. I didn't even notice as I kept exhaling quickly out of my nose in the hopes I could push out the molecules of shit adhered to the lining in my nostrils. Henry sauntered out a minute or so later, most likely reveling in his delivery.

'Talbot, where did you get the dog? The city dump?' BT asked, pinching his nostrils shut in the hopes that he would not breathe in any more tainted air. 'I hope you got half off, because he's defective!'

Henry had no clue that he was the center of all this attention. He pissed on the tire, a look of contentment across his wide maw. Something that strongly resembled a liver plopped to the ground from the back of my shirt. The seriousness of our predicament seemed to be heralded with that one small transaction. It was morning, of that I was grateful. I looked around to check out our surroundings. Rural pretty much summed it up. There was a farmhouse within view, although from this distance it was impossible to tell if it was occupied. No smoke was coming from the chimney, if that meant anything or not.

Travis had opened up the trunk and found an old rag in the back. He was treating the offending pile as if it were nuclear waste, which seemed about right. He heaved the rag and its contents as far as was possible and was about to shut the trunk when Nicole stopped him.