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.
“Now climb, if you fall we’ve got you!” Paul shouted. “Mad Jack, tie the other end off.”
‘Wait, didn’t he tell me they would have me? Should I really trust a man named Mad Jack to tie the other end of my life line off?’
“Henry’s up!” Justin shouted.
‘Damn, that was fast.’ I looked up to verify and immediately wished I hadn’t. Vertigo, like a physical force, pushed my face into the ladder. From my vantage point, with cool aluminum on my cheek, I could see the gamut of encouraging and disparaging (Marta’s and Deneaux’) faces. When the worst of the episode passed, I looked behind me. Mindless pursuit would not be the adjective I would have used to describe what approached. Relentless, yes, mindless, no. The zombie closest to me extended his hand. This was like my worst nightmare in church. If I let him get any closer I would have to take the proffered viral encrusted hand in celebration of a new bond between man and zombie. Yeah, that’s it. I could be the ambassador, the one that broached peace between man and monster! I would be a national hero, heralded as the savior of all mankind! Or he’d gnaw through my fingers on his way to devouring my forearm. Yeah, that seemed much more probable. Still stalling.
I quickly unsnapped the tie down that was holding the ladder in place; the buffeting wind made it jump. I jumped on it before it could completely bounce off.
“Mike, what are you doing?” Paul asked in alarm, not sure if the nylon rope they had secured the ladder with would hold the entire weight should the ladder and I both go over.
I was four rungs up when I felt the ladder shift. Company had joined me on this final leg of the journey.
I was halfway craning my neck to look back when BT’s words struck me. “
The ladder was bowing something fierce. I looked up to watch as the top skids were a good fifteen or sixteen millimeters from losing contact with the roof. See how I did that, I changed from U.S. measurements to the Metric system. Maybe if we had just switched back in the seventies like they said we were going to, I would be able to feel much better about my predicament. Because fifteen or sixteen millimeters sounds WAY better than half a n inch!
