handed the torch to Brendon, Brendon handed it to Tommy, who will Tommy hand it to? Every time I think that my despair has bottomed out I come to realize that I was only on a false shelf, the black plummeting drop wrenching my stomach into my throat, all sense of self and awareness enshrouded in misery. Existence hardly seemed worth the effort. How much pain does one feel from a self-inflicted gunshot?
'COWARD!' Echoed off the walls of the well I was trapped in.
Alone, in the dark, huddled against a wet dank wall, I shuddered in revulsion, of my situation and more so of myself. I just wanted to be done. The burden I carried now far exceeded my limits. Something had broken inside of me. Tommy had been the crutch upon which my spirit leaned on. With him gone it had crashed to the floor, smashing into millions of pieces like littered glitter. Pretty to look at but generally just a mess of color that gets everywhere but in the trash.
The soft glow of the moon lightly lit up the interior of the hummer, and I took long moments to gaze across the faces of the ones I loved. Yes, they would be the reason I would climb out of this pit. They would be the reason I would move forward no matter how much my will resisted. For them, I would never give up.
'You keep looking at me like that and you'd better take me out to dinner,' BT said with one eye half open.
'Thank you BT,' I choked out.
'Yeah, you're welcome. Now I know I'm pretty and it's tough to keep from looking at all this,' he said swirling his hand around his face, 'but I'd much rather you keep your eyes on the road.'
'Thanks BT,' I reiterated.
'We will get through this, Talbot,' he said reaching up from the back and placing his hands on my shoulders. My shoulders shook, my silent tears crashing through my head. I knew the big man was hurting too. Tommy was dear to all of us. Right now BT was the Cliffs of Dover and I was the tide crashing into them. In a few millennia I might wear him down but for now he was going to be my rock. I reached over my chest and gripped his left hand with my right. If ever there were a strength I could anchor to, it was within this man. 'This doesn't mean we're going steady now,' I quipped half-heartedly.
I propped my knee up to hold the steering wheel as I tried to wipe away the cascading tears with my left sleeve. BT looked off to the side, letting me hold on to what little remained of my dignity. Tracy witnessed the whole scene. Maybe at a different time she would have commented that we made such a cute couple; now just didn't seem like that time.
The chain that ensnared my heart grew a little heavier that day as Tommy's death added its own links to the length. Someday I would be strong enough to carry it, but for now dragging it would have to do.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE - JOURNAL ENTRY 26 - 
Maine looked almost the same as it had before zombieism became a national pastime. It was indeed passed over from modernity. The towns we passed through seemed devoid of any type of life. Occasionally we would pass a murder of crows snacking on things better left to the imagination but that was it. Mainers were traditionally a strong stock of folks that did not much like or trust people-from-away. But hey, they were Red Sox fans, so they have that going for them. Population wise, proximity (or lack thereof) to major cities and a general distrust of all things governmental may have worked in this reclusive state's favor.
We weren't being attacked by zombies but at the same time I wasn't seeing a welcome wagon. Odds were that we had passed under more than one rifle scope as we drove on but Mainers live under the premise of 'if you don't screw with us, we won't shoot you.' (Sort of like Northeast Texas.) Some buildings had been destroyed, others ransacked. There was the occasional crashed car but for the most part this looked better than pre-zombie Detroit. Okay so that's not saying a whole hell of a lot, but we are still talking Armageddon here.
Travis looked out the window. I could tell he was starting to see things that looked familiar. 'How much further?' he asked with a hint of excitement in his voice.
God, I hoped my family was okay. I needed the infusion of hope that they would offer. 'Hour or so, depending on fuel.' The gauge couldn't go any lower. As it was, the hummer was sucking up the rusted bits of the fuel tank. I wonder what the mpg is on diesel-soaked metal fragments? If the truck died now that hour would now become a 10-hour sojourn that Carol and possibly BT wouldn't make. I started looking around for another viable means of transportation, but any survivors had beaten me to it. Mainers typically survive some of the harshest weather conditions on the barest minimum of supplies. Anything that could help them weather this 'storm' was long gone. I'd have a better chance of getting quality dental care in England. As if on cue and to make my heart skip another beat, the hummer sputtered once, twice and then lurched forward.
Tracy looked over at me nervously. 'We going to make it?'
Both variations of that question had a huge '?' at the end. I didn't say it out loud. No need to, we all felt it.
The hummer got further than I expected but less than was needed. We were a full fifteen miles short of our destination when she quit. We were on a slight downgrade and I was able to eke out another tenth of a mile. Excellent, only 14 and 9/10ths miles to go. Carol, BT, Nicole and Henry could not make this march. Hell, the way I felt, I wasn't sure if I could.
'Any ideas?' Tracy asked me. She knew the score. We were in a lot of trouble.
'I was thinking maybe Triple A.' She didn't rise to the bait. It wasn't that great of a joke anyway. She scanned the roadway ahead of us. The gusts coming from the Northeast blew snow across the desolate roadway. It was somewhere in the neighborhood of noon and there was no way we were going to be at my dad's before dark. One shotgun with seventeen shots. Once they were gone then what? Deaders could catch us. Speeders would have a field day. 'Shit.' I said as I rubbed my hand across my face.
'Should we just stay here and wait?' Carol asked. I understood her distress.
I turned to look at her. 'We can't.' I could have elaborated and said that waiting was tantamount to death. Zombies, the elements or just plain old every day assholes would come across us sooner or later.
'Mike, my mom can't make it,' Tracy pleaded.
'What do you suggest? Should I let someone else die?!' I yelled.
'Oh, Mike,' Tracy sobbed. She fully realized now the burden I hefted. 'None of those deaths were your fault. Bad things happen to good people.'
Nicole full out started to cry, her loss coming to the fore again.
'My job is to protect, them, us. It's what I do now. It's all I do now and I failed them!'
'Mike.' BT shot out. 'We all look out for each other. It is not just
I nodded in agreement, not because I felt that was the case but rather to end the discussion.
'Can't you maybe go for help and come back for us?' Tracy asked hopefully.
'Tracy, even at a decent pace, in these conditions I won't get there for at least another three hours. I don't even know what I'll find. Absolute best case scenario, I'm back here in four hours. Since this has started, how many best case scenarios have we come across?'
'None,' Tracy said, lowering her head.
'Even with the shotgun you guys are sitting ducks. We can't take that big of a chance of splitting up. I won't survive if anything happens to any of you.'
Carol was first out the door. 'Let's get this over with,' she stated flatly.
Can't really argue with that logic, so we all piled out. The biting sting of wind-blown ice crystals against my skin was both invigorating and alarming. An hour of that and it would begin to feel like someone was dragging frozen sandpaper across my face.
'What about Henry, Dad?' Travis asked.
Henry's idea of a walk generally consisted of getting up from his comfortable pillow, going over to his dish, eating heartily, playing for 15 minutes, wandering outside, taking care of business, then going back to his comfortable pillow. Henry wouldn't make it more than a mile before he would just stubbornly lie down and wait for me to do something about it.
'Winter in Maine,' I replied slowly, deep in thought.
'Folks couldn't retire to Mississippi?' BT asked as he grabbed the remainder of blankets out of the truck.
'What?' Justin asked, picking up on my earlier comment.
