Zombie Fallout 8: An Old Beginning

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

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Authors: Mark Tufo
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in that air before his body came down onto a branch, a loud crack heralding his arrival. The group held a collective breath as they waited to see if Trip would go plummeting to the ground. The branch held, although it was clear to those looking at it that the limb was suffering a catastrophic failure.
    “Honey, you should move to another branch,” Stephanie urged.
    “Why? Will this bank not let me withdraw money?” he asked, clearly confused.
    “What is he saying?” Dennis questioned.
    “Allow me,” BT said. “I’m starting to understand Tripanese. See, he thinks when his wife said ‘branch’ that she was referring to a bank.”
    “Well, why not? Makes perfect sense.” Dennis was looking down at the zombies that, for the time being, were mostly silent, though the way in which they gazed upon the tree-dwellers was unsettling. He had the feeling they were like crocodiles in a marsh waiting for the hatching birds to fall so they could get a quick meal. Trip, in the meantime, had moved higher up the tree he’d jumped to.
    BT looked around desperately; with Henry on his back he knew he was well over three hundred pounds of combined weight. He’d need a branch somewhere close to the thickness of his arm before he’d feel safe enough to make a leap of faith.
    “You guys coming? If you don’t hurry, we’ll never beat the Nottingham Sheriff to Robin’s lair,” Trip called out.
    “Guys, there’s another tree over here that looks sturdy enough.” Gary was gauging the distance. “I think I can make it.” He was pushing against the tree he was on, looking for some extra propulsion.
    “You go from scared of climbing trees to Batman?” BT asked him.
    “I said I was afraid of climbing, not afraid of heights,” Gary replied. He leaped and missed.
    “Oh shit.” Travis reached out to grab the shoulder of his uncle. He came up empty.
    Gary’s arms were flailing as he tried to grab onto the bark. He came down hard on the tree’s lowest branch, crotch first. The only thing saving him from jewel-crushing defeat was that his feet came down on the tops of the zombies’ heads. Even with the cushioning, he turned pale as the pain erupted from his privates and cramped his stomach. Breakfast, part of last night’s dinner, and some unidentifiable thick, brown liquid spilled from his mouth in a torrent.
    Travis quickly made the jump, landing softly on the branch above that his uncle had been originally shooting for. He reached down and steadied Gary’s swaying form. Gary had both of his hands in front of him on the branch trying to keep from rolling off.
    “Don’t feel so good,” he looked up.
    “I get it, Uncle Gary, I do, but you need to stand up,” Travis said sympathetically.
    A half gurgle half grunt came out of Gary as he flexed his arms and pulled his legs up from the zombies that were now reaching for them. “Might puke again.”
    “I would expect nothing less, but how about you come up here and do it.” Travis’ grip was tenuous at best, and if Gary fell over, he would either fall over with him or have his hand wrenched free. Gary moved with slow and deliberate movements, his legs shaking as they finally got on the loin-crunching wood. Travis was concerned the outcropping might not support his weight. His uncle hugged the tree as he stood taking in deep breaths.
    “You alright?” Travis asked as he gently clapped his uncle’s shoulder.
    “Maybe never,” Gary replied, his forehead resting against the tree.
    Travis gave his mother the thumbs-up.
    Some of the zombies had moved so that now all three trees they were perched in were completely surrounded.
    “We can’t keep doing this,” BT said aloud what they were all thinking. “We can’t move fast enough to get by them, and someone is going to eventually fall.” BT’s tree shook minutely as a bulker crashed into it. None of them were in any danger of being shaken loose, but it was still disconcerting.
    “Hope he crushes his skull doing

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