Zombie Fallout 7 For The Fallen
Mark Tufo
Zombie Fallout 7– For The Fallen
Mark Tufo
Electronic Edition
Copyright 2013 Mark Tufo
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Edited by:
TW Brown
Cover Art:
Shaed Studios, shaedstudios.com
Electronic Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
Dedications:
To my wife: a thank you seems such a simple way to express my appreciation but it is all encompassing. For everything you do for my mind, body and soul - thank you.
I honestly can’t thank my beta-readers enough, Vix Kirkpatrick, Joy Buchanan and Kimberly Sansone. That they give of their time (willingly) to help me put out a better book is mind-blowing. You three will always have my utmost appreciation.
To David Knuth, he gave an idea for a particular mode of transportation, I just wanted to give credit where it was due.
To all my readers who have sent me communication over the last year hoping this book would come to its fruition, I hope you enjoy it!
As always to the first responders and men and women of the armed forces, you have mine and my family’s admiration and respect for all the sacrifices you endure to keep us all safe.
Acknowledgement page for all those who so kindly helped when I asked for a favor!
‘Louise Thostrup, Aaron Altman, Amanda Burns-Austin, Amanda Felix, Amanda Perez,
Amber Cichon, Ami LawLess, Amy McNea, Andrew Cross, Angel Campbell Welch, Angela Crabtree, Angela Gomez Ritchie, Angie Zuver, Anne-marie Stephens, Anthony Hoahng, Anthony Morley,
Ariel Alvarez, Armand Rosamilia, Barbara Friskey, Barry Hruby, Becky Usherwood, Bill Allen, Bionicgargoyle Grrarg, Bob Simister, Brenda Spears, Brian Forsythe, Brian Kelly, Brown Lawrence,
Bryan Shrove, Chris Decoteau, Christine Kelly, Christopher Dorrell, Christopher Scott Caldwell,
Claire Rees, Combat Johnny, Consuelo Delgado, Dan Modzik, Danielle Dorsey, Dargan Franks,
Darrell Dutton, Darren Bailey, Dave Heron, David Bain, David Marble, David Quincy, Debora N. Derr, Deborah Brayshaw, December Maglior, Diane Long, Diane Paster, Dieter Wheatley, Donald Fuchs,
Elijah Wilson, Elizabeth McCurry Wilson, Emma Keogh, Felicia Braden Wahl, Finlay Grant,
Gayle Davidson, Gem Preater, Ginger Dailey, Gypsy Rose, Heath Stallcup, Heather Willingham,
Hector Cervantes, Honey Rand, Irene Dawn Guerrero, James R McCain Jr, Janet Dugas, Jason Blocker, Jason Wylie, Jay Parthenopaeus, JCastillo Lando, Jim Bouque, Jody McLee, John Kenkel,
Johnn E. Houston, Joseph Fleischman, Joshua Kessler, Joyce Scott, Julie Greig, Kai Pao, Karl Adams, Kate Carlan, Katie Cadena, Katina Henderson, Kelly Rickard, Kim Corona, Kim McClellan Meyers, Kimberly Munsell, Lana Sibley, Lauren Worley-Coleman, Leann Brackney, Leigh Windridge,
Lillian Patterson, Lisa Evans, Lisa Harper, Lisa M Jennings- Friloux, Lisa Marie Williams,
Lisa Snyder-Phillips, Lisa Swarm, Lori Lynch Fontanez, Lou Miller, Luci Tomaselli-Steffensen,
Maria C Farber, Mark Heath, Marrah Goodman, Matt O'Shields, Matt Santiago, Melissa Joy Broderick, Michael Chance, Michael Gunn, Michelle Thrasher, Nadine Price, Nathan King, Nick Anthony,
Nicky Barnes Jones, Ozymandias Von Gimmiesome, Pamela Hosford, Pat Bryant, Patricia Brower,
Patrick Marshall, Philip Spencer, Phillip Lawlor, Rachel Temple-Storm Watkins, Randall E. Atha, Rebecca True Wilson, Renee Nene, Rich Taylor, Rob Moffitt, Robin Mahaffey, Rogue Tomato,
Roz Stanley, Ryan Bilbo Colley Garland, Sandra Byrd, Sandra Tufo, Sara Smolarek, Scott Stanley,
Scott Wehde, Sharon Berghorn, Shaun Thysse, Sherry Ballentine Barton, Simon Tran,
Spencer Richardson, Stephanie Dagger, Steven Thornbrugh, Suzy Wegner, Tammea Gaunce Tooley, Tanner Proctor, Tez Leaver, Tim Kremin, Tina Hutchinson, Tina Mcleod, Tom Hall, Tom Lambert,
Tom Perry, Tony Devonshire, Tracy Carlson, Tracy Carlson-King, Travis Jorgensen, Trey Smith,
Truls Fundingsrud, Veronica Costa Smith, Vikki Marsh, Wayne Sanford, Wednesday Corey,
Wendy Betancourt, William Joe Roletter, Zac Dobney, Zach Rocha
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1 - Mike Journal Entry 1
Chapter 2 - Mike Journal Entry 2
Chapter 3 - Mrs. Deneaux
Chapter 4 - Mike Journal Entry 3
Chapter 5 - Mrs. Deneaux
Chapter 6 - Mike Journal Entry 4
Chapter 7 - Stephanie and Trip
Chapter 8 - Mike Journal Entry 5
Chapter 9 - Stephanie and Trip
Chapter 10 - Doc and Porkchop
Chapter 11 - Mrs. Deneaux and Dennis
Chapter 12 - Doc and Porkchop
Chapter 13 - Mike Journal Entry 6
Chapter 14 - Doc Baker
Chapter 15 - Mike Journal Entry 7
Chapter 16 - Stephanie and Trip
Chapter 17 - Mike Journal Entry 8
Chapter 18 - Dennis and Deneaux
Chapter 19 - Mike Journal Entry 9
Chapter 20 - Doc
Chapter 21 - Mike Journal Entry 10
Chapter 22 - Captain Najarian
Chapter 23 - Dennis and Deneaux
Chapter 24 - Mike Journal Entry 11
Chapter 25 - Lieutenant Barnes
Chapter 26 - Mike Journal Entry 12
Chapter 27 - Talbot Family
Chapter 28 - Mike Journal Entry 13
Talbot-Sode #1
Talbot-Sode #2
Epilogue 1 - Deneaux - Pre-Zombie Apocalypse
Epilogue 2
Epilogue 3
Prologue
Fuck death, it’s not the enemy, zombies are.
Chapter 1 – Mike Journal Entry 1
We stayed a few more days. There was a somber remembrance for my dad, and really for all those who had fallen. The patriarch of our family had died defending his legacy. Something we were all proud of; we all knew that was the way he would have wanted to go out.
A warrior to the end.
It was with mixed feelings that we left Ron’s house. Sadness for the losses we had suffered, but that was intermingled with the thought that perhaps we had finally turned the corner on the zombie apocalypse. I couldn’t have been any more wrong if I tried. Who knew? At some point Azile had slipped into the night, not to die like Erin at least I hope not. She’d done something to BT while he was on guard duty and she’d just vanished. Tommy and I tried to hunt her down for a couple of days, never found a trace. I missed the girl she had played an integral part in Eliza’s demise, now she was another of the fallen and an added spot upon my blackening heart.
Ron wouldn’t give up the Gatling gun to save his life, and I threatened him enough to know he meant business. He already wrote off his truck when he decided to lend me another one. I caught him stroking the hood and apologizing to it softly.
“I haven’t even got in it yet,” I told him.
“What’s the last thing you haven’t destroyed?” he asked. “And now you’ve even set an example for your kids.” Ron was referring to the ripped up deck.
“What will you do, Ron?” I asked. “Are you going to stay here?”
The levity ceased.
The damage to the basement was extensive; the foundation to the house had suffered a serious blow.
“I’m going to see if it will be possible to brace the house. This is still a safe place, and I want to try and give the kids as stable of an environment as possible. Are you coming back?”
“I’d like to think so, but I haven’t received my warranty paperwork in the mail yet, so I’m not sure how long I have left.”
“Funny.”
BT was carrying a big bag of supplies out to the truck. “Stop,” Ron told him.
“Huh?” BT asked.
“Open the bag.”
“Mike said it was canned goods.” BT bent down to unzip the bag.
I was moving quickly away from the truck.
“Son of a bitch!” BT and Ron said in unison.
“I knew he’d try.” Ron grabbed the bag containing the Gatling gun.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I shouted. “Blame the black man carrying it.”
“Oh, it’s always the black man’s fault…right, Talbot?” BT asked my retreating back.
“Look at the evidence,” I replied and then I was gone.
“The bastard made me a mule.” BT shook his head as he placed the supplies in the truck. I could see him smiling; that was a good thing. The alternative was him twisting my head off. Although he still might; he may even be wearing that smile while he did so.
Ron made sure the gun stayed by his feet as we finished loading supplies. When it was all said and done, it was approaching noon. As I looked around at the serenity of this place, I wanted to change my mind, BT and Justin still needed help…but oh how I wanted to.
BT, Tracy, Travis, Justin and Tommy got in the truck. The rest of my family, new and old lined the roadway waving as we departed. When I was sure we were far enough away to avoid retribution but still within sight, I stopped the truck and got out.
“You should have let me have the gun,” I yelled to Ron.
“Not a chance,” he yelled back.
I drove off the road a ways, scraping the front fender against a large oak and leaving a large swath of white paint.
“You little fuck!” he yelled, looking to chamber some rounds into his gun. I floored the gas.
“You’re such an asshole,” Tracy said from the backseat.
“What? It was an accident. I’m innocent,” I pled.
“You don’t have an innocent bone in your body,” BT added.
“Listen…if that’s the worst that happens to this thing I’ll consider it a victory,” I said.
BT contemplated for a moment. “Agreed.”
“See, hon, I was just getting the bad part out of the way.” I turned to face her.
“Uh-huh.” She answered warily. I don’t think she was buying it.
“So what’s the plan?” BT asked.
“Really?” Travis asked back.
I smiled wanly. I actually did have an idea. Odds were good that the doc was somewhere along the route Eliza had taken. Sure, that left a lot of land to cover; however, there was no alternative. BT and Justin needed help. I would not – I could not – dwell on the impossibility of this mission. Doc was alive; I was staking their lives on it.
We’d gone a few miles, the overall mood in the car was guarded excitement. Team Talbot had scored a major victory. Eliza was dead, and nothing short of a good old-fashioned resurrection was going to bring her back. Now, normally that would have been a laughable proposition, considering the last one had happened close to two thousand years ago – depending on your beliefs. But since the zombies had made ‘coming back’ commonplace, I’d had the wisdom to burn Eliza.
I thought I’d get more enjoyment out of the event. All I really felt was sorry. Her first years were marred with all manner of brutality inflicted upon her. She, in turn, had wrought that on the world in spades. It was all she knew. She looked so at peace as she laid upon that funeral pyre. Tommy had carefully combed her hair and placed her hands over her chest, nearly covering the twisting knife wound Tracy had inflicted. Nothing short of new clothes was going to hide the blood that had dried to a brown thickness across her upper half though.
Tommy kissed his sister lightly, struck the match, and lit her lighter fluid-doused body up. He watched for a second as the flame took hold before he walked away. We were all out there to witness the event. I stayed to the bitter end; I felt that I owed her that. The flame had burned hot enough to be felt over twenty-five feet away. The pyre collapsed in on itself after a while, sending plumes of sparks skyward. Eventually, after many hours, the flame had died out.
As if on cue, a light rain had started blotting out the final embers; soft smoke drifted up. I almost can’t believe that we won, I thought as I approached the ashes. She had seemed so strong, cunning, and vicious. What chance did we have?
I kicked over a small, blackened log. A glint of gold caught my attention. It was what remained of the Blood Locket. I had been tempted to grab it as some sort of memento of the occasion – proof that we really had succeeded. After further reflection, I booted ash over it. It was hers; it always had been. And, in retrospect, I wanted nothing to do with it.
***
“It’s always road trips,” BT said, looking through the window.
I had been lost in thought. “What?”
“Who knew that the zombie apocalypse would be one road trip after another?”
I was still holding on to visions of a burning Eliza and her hand falling from her breast, her pointer finger extending out towards me. Possibly in accusation or as an invitation to join her.
I came up with the ever witty “Huh?”
“Shit, Talbot, how much room you got in that head of yours that you travel so far away?” BT chided me.
Travis laughed. “Sorry,” he mumbled when I glared at him through the rear view mirror.
“It’s not his fault you’re a space cadet,” Tracy told me.
And then BT’s words hit. I think if I added up the days since the zombies came, we truly had spent the majority of them on the road. Defending a homestead definitely had its own share of dangers, but that was nothing in comparison to all manner of nasty and deadly things that could and most likely would be discovered on the roadway.
“He’s left us again,” BT turned to say to Tracy.
“Welcome to my world,” she replied.
“Sorry, I was really just thinking on it. Being on the road sucks, and yet, here we find ourselves again,” I said.
“It’s got to be better without Eliza…right?” Justin asked without too much conviction.
“One would hope,” was what I said. My thoughts didn’t mirror the sentiment.
“Zombies!” Travis shouted. It was loud in the small confines of the truck.
My head was on a swivel as I looked around. “Where?” I was trying to pull a Regan from The Exorcist. (The whole head pulling a three-sixty thing for those of you not brave enough to have watched it, like me.)
“Oh, God!” BT said.
I saw his Adam’s apple bobbing wildly in his throat. I’d never seen him turn green; I wouldn’t have thought his skin color would have allowed it. Granted, it was a dark green like Godzilla as opposed to a Kermit-like green, which I guess is more fitting anyway considering his size.
“I know that smell,” he gulped. “Pickled weasel.”
I slammed on the brakes, the truck coming to a skidding halt. I think Tracy bounced her forehead off BT’s headrest. My throat was closing, tears were welling up in my eyes. I had no sooner shoved the truck in park when I opened the door and was outside gasping for air. Truth be told, I don’t think I was the first one out; but since I was rapidly losing consciousness, it was difficult to tell.
When I had finally pulled in enough ragged breathes of air to stop my pupils from dilating, I turned back towards the truck, and I’d swear I saw a brown mist swirling around inside that cab. I noticed two things that almost blew my mind. The first was that Tommy had not vacated like the rest of us,
and the second was the big bundle of fawn fur he had in his lap.
“What the fuck is Henry doing here?” I asked, pretty much to myself as everyone around me was still suffering the after-effects of what could only be described as the usage of a biological weapon.
I waited a few moments longer, letting the cloud dissipate; although I was figuring it could be sticky enough that it would adhere itself to the interior of the truck, thus further reducing its resale value. Tough to sell something that smelled like sewer gas, even with a clean CARFAX.
“Henry, what are you doing here?” I asked him as I approached.
I gingerly tested the air with my nose as I cautiously approached. His stub of a tail was banging rapidly back and forth. He tilted his head up so I could scratch under his chin and chest where he liked it most.
“Did you get a hold of Lyndsey’s cooking again?” I asked him as I grabbed his massive head.
I was referring to my sister, whose stabs at cooking had lined many the bottoms of trashcans. I’d once watched her, fascinated, as she made chocolate chip cookies from scratch. The resultant thing that emerged from the oven had looked like liver and tasted worse.
I was thrilled to see the dog…and worried. He was one more loved one I would need to be concerned for, but evidently he had decided to not be left behind again.
“Get him out of the truck,” Tracy said, coming up slowly. When I gave her a confused look she elaborated. “Whatever made him make that smell is close to the surface. He needs to get rid of it before we start back out.”
“Ooh.” I nodded in understanding as I helped the big guy down.
Henry padded over to the soft shoulder of the roadway, did a quick once over to make sure no one was looking, and then went about his business. I think I saw a couple of crows die as they circled above and into the waft of air that came from his pile.
“Better?” I asked him.
He did seem relieved. I thought he knew better than to eat anything my sister dropped. She was getting better, though; the things she would pull off the stove were starting to resemble real food more and more. Not that they tasted any better, they just ‘looked’ more edible.
