Zombie Fallout: 'Til Death Do Us Part Part 12

"No, man, not that far back."

"Mesozoic then?" he asked clearly confused with my request.

"This cavern, John the Tripper, let's start with this cavern," I clarified, or so I had thought.

"Cave formation begins when rainwater absorbs carbon dioxide as it falls through-"

"Oh f.u.c.k, man, you're hurting my head."

"Here smoke some of this," John said, extending his arm, a fairly good sized joint in the palm of his hand. "This will help."

"Like I need more drugs." I said sarcastically rubbing my temples.

"Exactly," John said as he looked in his hand and seemed surprised at what he found. "Did you give me this?" he asked. He sparked it up before I could respond, even if I wanted to.

I'll admit the sweet smell of the smoke was enticing, but I needed to be closer to reality as opposed to the opposite.

"Man, this is some good s.h.i.+t," John said as he took a sharp inhalation. "Where'd you get it?" he asked as he pulled the joint away and was looking at the burning end. "Colombia maybe?"

"I don't really remember," I told him; that seemed easier than trying to reason with him.

"You got anymore?" he asked, taking another toke.

I shook my head negatively as I began to explore our surroundings. Besides the landing hay and the potted pot plants, there were some tailgating fold-out chairs, a small collapsing table, a bunch of candles and some UV lighting that seemed to run on a cord that went back up the hole we had previously exited from.

At the far end of the cavern was another hole a little bigger than the other, this one looked like you could crawl on hands and knees, but I was in no rush, the mere thought of it got a quickening in my pulse.

"Did you make this place?" I asked John, hoping he would be on a cohesive thought upswing.

"It was here," he said with abbreviation as he took another hit.

"The tunnel from the cabin was here also?"

"No, I did that. I was pretty sure an alien s.p.a.cecraft had crash landed here in the '40s. So I rented a ground penetrating radar set-up. When it bounced this hole back up, I had to see what it was. Figured the s.h.i.+p would be down here too, it wasn't."

"The previous cabin motel owners-or Stephanie for that matter-didn't care that you dug a hole in the middle of that room?" I asked, pointing back up.

"At first I snuck the dirt out in my pockets in the middle of the night."

"Like The Great Escape?" I asked, remembering a World War Two movie my dad and I used to enjoy watching.

"Well I wasn't really trying to escape, but sure," he replied, looking at me like I was the crazy one; and maybe in his skewed reality, that was the truth. "Then, when I got to the cavern, I decided I liked it a lot and I bought the motel...or maybe Stephanie did."

"This is all yours?"

He was smiling again, whether from the weed or being the proud owner I wasn't sure.

"You're f.u.c.king loaded aren't you?" I asked. "Like one of those uber-rich trust fund babies aren't you!" I said, pointing and laughing at him.

"I had a friend stole two pounds of dope from me, when he sold it, he put all the money into eBay stocks. He felt so guilty he gave me thirty million."

"Dollars? That's unreal."

"What?"

"Wow, you'd never know you were worth that much."

"I'm not anymore."

I figured he had smoked, snorted or swallowed the vast majority of his windfall.

"Stephanie took the profits and rolled it into Google. I think at one time she said two hundred and fifty million."

"Holy s.h.i.+t, John!" I nearly fell on my a.s.s just thinking about the staggering amount. "Why are you still living in that little house in backwoods North Carolina?"

"Where would I go?" he asked in all seriousness.

"Anywhere I suppose."

"Why? It was home."

"Yeah, John the Tripper, I guess you're right. Home is home, that's pretty deep."

"Not really, we're only about twenty feet down."

"I meant the...forget it. s.h.i.+t two hundred and fifty million, that's pretty impressive."

"It's only money."

"That's what people who have a lot say. For those that are or were struggling, it takes on a different meaning."

"Want some?"

"I don't think it's worth much anymore."

"Right, the funky people. They've been kinda of fouling everything up."

"Is this place safe?"

"It's deep enough that we don't need the tin foil hats. The funkies can't get here, and the government already removed the s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p, so they ain't coming back. So yeah...safe as any place can be."

"I need to come down, John. All I'm seeing is tracers, and the reverberation in here is throwing me off. "

"Then you're gonna love this," he said as he snapped some glow sticks.

He started to twirl his arms. The kaleidoscope of colors was mesmerizing. I don't know how long I watched, but the chemical reaction was beginning to peter out when I finally pulled my gaze away.

"Come on sit down," John told me. I had not even known he sat; the colors were still swirling vividly in front of me. "Smoke this." He handed me a pipe that looked suspiciously like a peace pipe.

I took a long drag, the aromatic smoke filling my lungs, the smell of vanilla wafting around our enclosure. "What is this?" I asked, looking at the pipe, realizing that I should probably have asked before taking a hit. With John all bets were off.

"It's a personal blend."

"Your words are not as comforting as I would hope, John."

"North Carolina tobacco, with a smattering of Turkish has.h.i.+sh," he told me as he handed the pipe back.

The sweet-spiced tobacco melded nicely with the tangy tickle of the hash. The buzz was pleasant and rounded the edges of the harsh trip. I was feeling better-not normal, not by a long shot-but at least I didn't feel like I was going to come out of my skin. Although I figured I had already done that once today and that should be enough.

We sat there for an indeterminable amount of time. I found great comfort in John, for a man so out of step with the 'real' world, he was the lord of this domain. I smoked until I couldn't lift my arms any more. We talked some, for the life of me I can't remember anything except the profoundness of it. And then John told me to go to sleep.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

Eliza and Tomas "They are gone or they are dead, Eliza, how much longer must we walk around this dead city?" Tomas asked.

Eliza was about to answer when a woman clutching a bottle of amber liquid stumbled out of her house. "Are you that b.i.t.c.h?" Mary yelled.

"Well, well what do we have here?" Eliza said bemused as she strode over the lawn towards Mary.

Mary's booze-induced bravado barely held up as Eliza stood face-to-face with the woman. But she stood defiant in the face of death. "You are...aren't you? I can smell the stench of death all around you."

"What do you know of me?" Eliza asked Mary out of curiosity.

"You're not s...o...b..d!" Mary slurred, trying to stand up taller, hoping her slight height advantage would somehow intimidate the smaller woman. But what Eliza lacked in size she more than made up for in intimidation.

"Oh, I can a.s.sure you that I am," Eliza said.

"That Talbot fellow...he was all petrified of you. I don't see why," Mary said, taking a huge swig of the bourbon she was clutching.

"Where is he?" Tomas asked, suddenly interested in the conversation.

"He's dead!" she shouted, swinging the bottle, some of the fire water slos.h.i.+ng out.

"And you know this for a fact?" Eliza asked, a smirk on her face.

"The big black man and his own brother said so. They're all dead!" she shrieked.

"BT is dead?" Tomas asked saddened.

"I'd imagine," Mary answered.

"You don't know?"

"How the fruck would I know, do I look like a psychic?" she said, taking another swig. "I'm just glad they took the old bat with them."

"Deneaux was with them?" Tomas asked.

"f.u.c.king witch. Now she was scary," Mary replied.

"How long have they been gone?" Tomas asked.

"Who the h.e.l.l are you?" Mary asked, taking another swig.

"I am her brother."

"Lucky you," Mary said sardonically.

"Did they say where they were going?" Eliza asked.

"Why?" Mary asked suspiciously.

"Why did you not leave with them?" Tomas asked.

"It's not safe out here, not safe at all for my Jos.h.i.+e."

Eliza looked past Mary. "A child perhaps?" Eliza asked.

"He's not in there!" Mary said loudly when she realized she may have said more than she intended.

"So you who thought the world was too dangerous for your sp.a.w.n, sent him away? Then opened your door to challenge me? How has your kind survived for so long?"

"My kind? What are you? I didn't believe any of that horses.h.i.+t about you being a vampire."

"Well that was your second mistake," Eliza said, effortlessly pus.h.i.+ng Mary aside so she could enter the house.

Mary began to scream as Josh's body flew down the stairs, to slam against the far wall, then crumple in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.

"The whelp is dead!" Eliza said hotly as she came down the stairs.

Mary dropped her bottle and fell to the floor to wrap her arms around her son. "He was sleeping!" she screamed. "You'll hurt him!"

Tomas stood in the doorway; he could smell the death on the child and madness upon the mother. Eliza had not done it, he was thankful for small favors.

Eliza stepped over the huddled family and walked past Tomas to get back outside.

Tomas thought there might yet be hope for his sister that she had not killed the mother then he realized quite the opposite was true, she had left the mother alive to mourn over the loss of her son. Her cruelty was not bound by any depths.