“How’s Perla doing?” Tracy asked, wanting to avoid that conversation completely.
“Someday she’ll be alright, but not today.” Cindy answered, now realizing that maybe she didn’t want to dwell on the fate of her fiancée just yet either. “The view is beautiful,” Cindy told Ron as he handed her a cup of coffee.
“Thank you,” Ron said. “If you guys need anything, please let me know. I’d like to get to work as soon as possible before it gets dark.” Work involved designing, and building all viable means of defense of the Talbot stronghold. Ron wasn’t a betting man, but he was fairly certain Mike would be back and he would be coming in hot. Meaning every zombie and vampire for a thousand mile radius would be in chase. That was Mike; he never got himself halfway into trouble, he always made sure to be fully wedged tightly in its grip, and he planned on being as properly prepared as possible.
“Hi Perla.” Cindy said as she wrapped her arms around her friend.
“Anything?” Perla asked.
Only the resulting silence answered her.
“I’m going to help Uncle Ron,” Travis said, removing the small blanket.
“Be careful, hon. Your dad used to tell me all sorts of horror stories about your uncle and that machine he’s using.”
“The back hoe?” Travis asked.
“Yeah, that thing. Just be careful.”
Travis looked like he wanted to tell his mother that there were way worse things to be afraid of. But now that he thought about it, being around his uncle using a fifteen-ton machine had its own inherent dangers.
***
Ron was fueling the machine and getting ready to check the hydraulics when Travis came out to the garage to meet him.
“You need any help?” Travis asked.
Ron actually preferred to work alone because he didn’t have the greatest track record running the big machine. There were enough houses with their siding missing to attest to that. But he could tell his nephew needed to keep busy doing something.
“Sure, I can’t get into the tree line with this beast and I need some holes dug about yay big,” Ron said, roughly showing a box about a foot deep by a foot across.
“What are they for?”
“Explosives.”
“Sweet,” Travis said as he went over to the wall and grabbed a pick and a shovel off the peg board. “I should have stayed with them,” Travis said to his uncle, his back still to him.
“They’re just late calling in. You don’t know if anything is wrong,” Ron answered his nephew. It sounded flat even as he said it.
“I’m faster than any of them, I’m as good a shot as my dad. I could have kept them out of trouble,” Travis sighed, turning to face his uncle, his seventeen-year-old features strained from the stress.
“Alright, I’m not going to lie, ever since your dad was a kid, he found some of the most unusual ways to get into trouble. It’s like he has a trouble-homing beacon on so it knows where to go. But somehow he always comes out smelling sweeter than when he went in. Now, I don’t know what kind of mess he’s gotten himself into this time, but there’s no reason at all to think he’s not going to pull out of it like he always does.” Ron’s words seemed to have a measurable effect on Travis. “Come on, we’ve got a lot of work to do before they get back.” Ron wrapped his arm around Travis’ shoulder and showed him exactly where to start digging.
***
“Hi Tony, how you doing?” Tracy asked. She was sitting at the table with the radio.
“I wish they’d hurry up and get back,” he said, sitting down next to her. “This not knowing is horrible. If I was twenty years younger, I’d be out there looking for them.”
“I saw you on that on-ramp. I think you could handle yourself just fine.”
His eyes twinkled at her as he flashed a smile and grabbed her hand. “How have you put up with him so long?” Tony asked, half kidding, but also half serious. “That kid has more kinks and quirks than piping done by the Three Stooges.”
“That’s a pretty old reference, Tony, and I never liked that show growing up.”
“Butch…I mean Mike and I,” Tony started with a faraway look in his eye, “used to sit and watch it every Saturday morning. I’d seen them all, years before as a kid, but it was a way for the two of us to be together to do some bonding. I’d always wished that I had spent more time with my children as they were growing up, but Mike got the least time of any of them. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing, now that I think about it.” And then he smiled.
“Well, at least I know where he gets his humor from. They’ll be back, Tony.”
“You’re that sure?” Tony asked, looking her in the eyes.
“I am,” she answered. “Do you want me to get you some more coffee?” Tracy asked, getting up so as not to give away her illusion of holding it together.
“I would,” Tony said, handing her his cup.
As Tracy was leaving the room, she turned to answer her father-in-law. “In spite of every flaw that man possesses, and there are more than I care to count, he is a wonderful father and husband with whom I cannot imagine spending the rest of my time here on earth without. That is why I have put up with him and why I know he will be back.”
Tears welled up in Tony’s eyes.
“I’ll be right back with the coffee,” Tracy said, giving Tony some time to collect himself.
Chapter Twelve – Mike Journal Entry 8
“Oh fuck!” Was the first thing out of my mouth. In retrospect, I wish I had thought of something better. My best friend had just been dealt a death sentence and the most profound thing I could think to say was an expletive. My English teacher was going to slap me upside the head if she ever found out. And then I followed that initial bad opening statement with one almost equally as lame. “Are you sure?”
BT rolled up his sleeve. A neat half moon wound on his forearm wept blood. “And before you go asking if what bit me was a zombie, you can match the wound up to that one’s mouth,” BT said, pointing to a zombie that laid close to his legs.