Free Born In The Apocalypse by Joseph Talluto

able to take care of things.  All we knew was suddenly a lot of trucks showed up and started building the wall.”
    “What is the wall?” I asked.  I’d heard the term before and seen pictures, but I never got the story from anyone.  Trey’s dad just shook his head, and mine just spoke about it briefly.  I was actually excited to be going to see it.
    “It was the government’s last attempt to save civilization.  We were the only state that still had a viable population, so they decided to shield us from the rest of the country.  Nothing can get us in here.  The only threat is our own Trippers, but we seem to be able to handle them.”  Dad reached over and tussled my hair, and we both nearly crashed when he temporarily bumped his bike into mine.
    We straightened ourselves without injury and kept moving.  Down the back road, we passed a group of houses that were set further back from the road than I was used to seeing.  There was a huge road down the middle of the houses, and I could see each house had a great big garage attached to it.
    “Lot of cars in those houses?” I asked my dad as we cycled past.
    “Not cars, buddy.  Planes,” Dad said.
    “What?”
    “In that subdivision, the people there owned their own airplanes and kept them near their houses.  When they wanted to go on a trip, they would move them to that big road, and fly away,”  Dad said, looking over the homes.
    “What happened to all the people who lived there?” I asked.  The community was gated and had a sturdy fence all the way around it as far as I could tell.  Trippers couldn’t get in if they blocked the main entrance.
    “I guess they flew away when the trouble hit.  At least they could, not like the rest of us.”  Dad got quiet, and we pedaled past the houses without incident.
    We reached Manhatten-Monee road and turned left.  My dad explained it would take right to the border without going south any further.  I didn’t care if it took us to the moon.  I was thrilled to have this time to myself with my dad, something I rarely got to do.  Another thing I rarely got to do was see my father in action against a Tripper.  As I soon saw, today was going to be an exception.
    Just past a small group of homes a lone man was walking along the road.  His jerky movements told us immediately that something was wrong, and my dad motioned me to slow down and stop.  Dad parked his bike without ever taking his eyes of the infected man.  The man was smaller than my dad, but wider.  He had a shock of yellow hair that stuck out at wild angles, giving his head the look of a sun drawn by a little kid.
    Dad slipped his pack off and pulled out his axe.  It was more of a camp axe than a fighting axe, but it would serve my dad’s purpose.  He had his rifle, but that was more for group work than individual fighting.  He waved me off the bike and told me to step back behind the vehicles.
    “Get your bow ready, but don’t take a shot unless you absolutely have to,” Dad said.
    “Why don’t I just shoot him?” I asked, puzzled.
    “Just listen to me.  All right, he’s seen us.  Here he comes.”  Dad stepped away from the bikes and moved slowly along the road. 
    The Tripper growled and bared his teeth, his hands clenching into fists as he moved forward.  His bloodshot eyes nearly glowed with anger, and his blotchy skin seemed to become even more inflamed.  He was a normal man, dressed in a long sleeve shirt and jeans, but he was well beyond infected.  His mouth was dark from biting, and his neck was scratched and had bled in the past.  His hair was wild, sticking out above his ears, giving him a maniacal look.  If Trey and I had found this guy, we might have wet our pants before we ran away.
    Dad never stopped moving.  He stood well away from me and held the axe low and to the side.  I realized at that moment that I had never seen my dad kill anything without using bullets.
    The Tripper sped up, reaching out with one