Free Zombie Fallout 2 by Mark Tufo

shitless but I was trying my best to put on a brave face for Travis, Tommy and Tracy and well if I’m being honest, even myself. “I’m pretty sure about the ‘Who’, somewhat sure about the ‘Why’ and not a fucking clue as to ‘How’.” I laid out my concerns about Justin and how he could potentially be guiding every nearby zombie to our location. Tracy wasn’t buying it. I’m sure the majority of her reasoning had to do with plausible deniability, what mother ever wants to think her child could bring harm unto others. Tracy looked over at me, like I had just spit into her Cheerios. “It’s a theory I didn’t say it was fact.”
    “Come up with something else college boy.” She said as she crossed her arms over her chest and turned to stare out of the windshield.
    Lesson learned. Fact number one – never throw one of your children under the bus in front of your wife. We were almost out of the center of town when we came upon the non-descript sheriff’s office. I passed by slowly looking for any sign of problems. I was really getting sick of the calm before the storm crap. It was quiet, eerily so. The place wasn’t much bigger than your average Laundromat and about as appealing, but it would fit all of us easily enough. The two windows in the front were thankfully barred and the door looked heavily fortified enough. Why I kept remembering the motto for the roach motel, I don’t know. Humans go in but they don’t come out.
    “Man, I just don’t like the looks of this.” I said out loud to no one in particular.
    Tracy mirrored my unease. “Then let’s just go.”
    “Yeah but I like the idea of sleeping in the Jeep, on the road even less. So it’s really the lesser of two crappy situations that I’m contemplating. Vona it is then.”
    “You sure?” My wife asked looking around the cabin of the Jeep like all of a sudden it went from matchbox size to palaciousness.
    As if in answer I yawned. My non-response was the worst decision I had made thus far. I was prepared to head out when my wife stopped me.
    “What are you doing?” She asked.
    “Cooking an omelet.” I shot back, one of these days my brain to mouth filter will work but for now I’ll have to just go back to what I do best, back-peddle. “Aw hell, I’m sorry Tracy, I’m just beat.” Did that get me off the hook? I looked over cautiously, when confronted with a wild animal (in this case a female human) it is best to avoid direct eye contact and make no fast furtive movements. I could tell by the way her hands were folded in her lap that I was in little danger of being struck but as I slowly raised my gaze, the look of fire in her eyes confirmed my suspicions, I was still in the doghouse.
    “Talbot, are you going to check to see if the door is open?”
    The question was reasonable. My reaction was not. All of a sudden the thought of vacating the relative safety of our rolling arsenal seemed like the worst idea ever presented. Damn her logic! I was going to suggest that I’d pull up to the front door and she could give it a quick yank, but we all know how well that would have gone over. I even began to form the arguments in my head like ‘I’ll stay behind the wheel and you can hop in so we can get away fast.’ Or ‘Have you ever seen how bad you drive a stick?’ or even better ‘You’re smaller so they won’t want to eat you as bad.’ Dammit “Sounds great, can’t wait,” I forced through a Cheshire cat smile. I pulled onto the gravel parking lot. The crunch of small stones under my tires set a flock of ravens into flight. ‘Oh pissa. That doesn’t seem too ominous.’ I thought sarcastically.
    “Trav can you hand me the .357?” I asked.
    He checked to make sure the cylinder was loaded. “You want me to come with you dad?”
    The answer was obviously yes, but I had already had this battle once with Tracy and she was not about to go 0-2. “No.” I gulped out. I could feel some of the tension in Tracy drain out.