Free Zombie Fallout 8: An Old Beginning by Mark Tufo Page B

People just continually die around her. The Reaper probably sends her a thank you card ever year.”
    “What of our deal?”
    “You in a rush to go out there? I say we let them sort it out, and I’ll do my part.” I was splitting hairs with my words, not promising at all that I planned to be his lab rat. If Tommy could get me out of here, then I was going. I’d perhaps spare his life, but even that wasn’t a foregone conclusion at the moment. We’d have to wait and see what the captain had to report when and if he came back from his fact and support finding mission.
     

Chapter Six – Tracy
     
    “Is this Woodstock?” Trip asked, looking out the front windshield of the truck at the seemingly endless expanse of zombies.
    “I wish,” Tracy said. “And I don’t even like most of that music.”
    Trip had come up front to sit in between Tracy and Gary. He’d told his wife that sitting in the back reminded him too much of the teacups ride from the carnival, and that was just too traumatic an experience for him.
    “How are there that many?” Gary asked. He’d taken the road Mike had told him to before the signal had been lost. They’d been driving parallel to the zombies for the last mile and still there was more of the horde to pass. “And where are they going?”
    “I think that’s obvious,” Tracy said, referring to the secret underground structure.
    “Spokane? Why would they be going to Spokane?” Trip asked.
    Tracy wasn’t sure if it was even worth correcting the man. She’d been around him long enough to realize that he was so firmly entrenched in his own world that, no matter what she said, it would require further and further explanation.
    “Mike said get rid of the truck, and I’m sure he had his reasons, but I really don’t want to until we can’t see them anymore.” Gary was pointing out the window as if anyone needed a clearer explanation.
    “I wish I had my tinfoil hat, it keeps the signals out that the government broadcasts to keep us all in line. They use the fluoride in the water as a conductor for it. The fluoride gets in our bones and makes them act like antennas. So I’ve got an antenna here,” he said as he held up a finger. “And here.” He held up another finger and repeated this for every digit on his hand before moving on to his toes. He was undoing his belt when Tracy stopped him.
    “We get it.”
    “I just wanted to show you my radio tower.”
    Gary busted out laughing. “Sorry,” he said when he saw Tracy’s glare. “Wait, I think he’s got something there.”
    “Of course I do, I’m not a eunuch.”
    Gary would have placed a palm to his head if it didn’t take both hands on the steering wheel to keep the truck from plowing into the various obstacles strewn on the roadway. “No, I don’t mean the…erm…radio tower. I’m talking the signal. Not really that, but I think that’s what Mike meant. They probably put a tracer on this thing so they can find us.”
    “And get us back,” Tracy finished. “Hurry up and find something else we can ride in.”
    “You’re welcome,” Trip said.
    “Don’t,” Tracy told Gary when she saw he was about to ask what for.
    They drove a few more miles before approaching a sign that announced they were entering Hallowell City Limits, population 26,732. Gary stopped the truck after they crested a small rise looking down at the city.
    “There will be a car there,” he said.
    “Along with everything else.”
    “I saw the Dead here once.” Trip had awoken from a short power nap.
    “Got a feeling we’re going to see them again,” Tracy replied.
    “I think he meant the band,” Gary spelled out.
    “Is it always going to be the job of Talbots everywhere to drive me crazy? I know what he meant.”
    “I was just helping out. Because your dead are not the same as his Dead.”
    “Got that, too.”
    “Well, how could I be sure?”
    “You’re right, you couldn’t. Could you park for a second? I’d like everyone to