The machetes were sharp. In two swift swipes, I sliced off an arm and a head.

With both hands on the handle, Dave raised the blade over his head and brought it down in an arcing swing, cutting through a zombie’s skull as if clearing weeds in a jungle.

Charlene took out the legs on a fast zombie. Just dropped low and swung. The thing went down, face first. She came up behind it and chopped at its head three times.

It was kind of like cracking a coconut, just a little easier with these blades…

Chapter Thirty

We had the clothing on our back, some guns, some machetes, swords and knives, but nothing else. Well, that wasn’t true, not exactly. We had each other. It sounded cheesy as all get out, but it was true, so I couldn’t deny it.

I had my girls. Allison and Charlene.

Dave was with Sues, and there was Erway and Palmeri.

The seven of us.

“Now what?” Charlene said.

The log cabin burned behind us. We’d ventured into the woods. We hadn’t left, just found a place to hide, away from the fire. Zombies might hate water, but they loved fire.

“Those brothers must have a vehicle somewhere,” Dave said. “How’d they get back and forth? They didn’t hike everywhere, did they?”

“I didn’t see any other buildings,” Sues said. “No barn, no garage.”

“Me either,” Dave said.

“In the morning, maybe we should go back to the internment camp and see if there’s anything in there we can salvage. Military had vehicles bringing people in and out, so there must be something down there,” Palmeri said.

I nodded. “I like it. Makes sense.”

“Where are we supposed to sleep?” Charlene said.

“Out here under the stars.” Sues looked up at the sky.

“We’re going to freeze,” she said. “It’s not like we can start a fire.”

My daughter was right. We couldn’t have a fire. We just might freeze. “We’re going to need to find shelter somewhere.”

I waited for ideas. Any suggestion at all. No one had one. I didn’t want to be the one to say it. “We could go back to the camp now and clear one of those apartments.”

“You want to go back there now?” Dave said.

I knew he hated that place. I hated it, too. It had been horrible. A dark maze that I felt for sure we were going to die inside of. “You have a better idea?”

He shook his head. “Wish I did, but I don’t, though.”

“Anyone?”

No one said a word.

We took a moment to get the weapons on in a way we liked. My daughter copied my look exactly. The sword, knife on the hip and machete over the back.

In a line, we walked toward the camp, past the river where the Coast Guard had once been docked and had once seemed like our saviours. Daylight was gone. The mountain and trees were to our west. For us, it seemed the sun had set hours ago.

The fence surrounding the camp was just like how I remembered it, foreboding. The coiled razor wire running along the top just added to the overall eeriness of the situation.

“This is where we were going to stay?” Charlene said.

“Ah, yep.”

“Not,” she said.

“It’s where we’re going to stay now,” I said.

“There has to be something better,” she said.

I would have loved to agree, but I doubted it.

Palmeri had point. We moved a little faster than the first time out to the camp. Palmeri wasn’t messing around. She wanted to get us somewhere safe and she wanted it done in a hurry. I was good with that.

We stopped when we reached the closed gate entrance. It was closed, but I looked at the ground. The belt I had secured the fence with was unbuckled. The  belt was on the wet, cold ground. I looked through the links, and shook my head.

“What?” Charlene said.

The zombies we’d killed last time were still dead. That was a little bit of peace of mind that I had no trouble clinging onto, but the belt . . . that was something else altogether. “Nothing,” I said.

“We go in?” Allison said.

“Wait,” Palmeri said. “We know there’s another opening in this fence. Let’s just stay outside the chain link for now. Circle around and see exactly what we’re dealing with. I’m not all that excited about locking myself in there without knowing where all the openings are.”

“Okay, let’s walk the outside of the fence,” Dave said.

Again, we followed Palmeri.

I kept looking through the fence at the compound, and toward the surrounding woods. Military did pick an excellent, out of the way spot for the camp. It looked like the land had been cleared specifically for the government, which if I thought about that is exactly what they must have done. Cleared it with plans for the camp. Good ol’ US of A.

“What’s that?” Sues said. I thought she’d spoken a little too loudly. I was many people behind everyone and I heard her as if she’d just whispered in my ear.

Palmeri stopped.

“It’s not a parking lot,” Sues said. “Is it a parking lot?”

It did in fact look like a parking lot. A sizeable one, at that.

“We’re not going to have to dig through dead people’s clothing for keys, are we?”

“Won’t have to,” Palmeri said. “Military vehicles. There are no keys. Can you imagine in the middle of a war -- not too unlike this -- and our troops need to get out and get away fast? You want to all be standing around, everyone patting their pockets looking for who had the keys last?”

That was an excellent point. One I had never thought of.

It just sounded way too good to be true, and when something sounded way too good to be true, it usually was.

We made our way from the fence, across grass and weeds to the parking lot. We all stayed low.

I stood, leaned my back on a Humvee grille and scanned the woods. Moon was out. Sky was clear.

I saw nothing coming at us.

“We’re good, so far,” I said.

Palmeri opened the Humvee door. I circled around the vehicle. Could not believe how quiet the night was. Were all the zombies at the house fire? Were they inside the encampment?

“Climb in, everyone,” Palmeri said.

“Son of a bitch,” Dave said. “Can you believe it?”

Everyone had opened a door to the Humvee when I heard it. A moan.

“Dad!”

Palmeri pushed a button, starting the engine. “Get in.”

I saw him. A fast shadow.

He came at me, right at me.

I raised my machete, holding it like a baseball player at home plate.

It was Marfione. Marf.

His face had bites ripped out of it, his eyes…milky and lifeless.  He was covered in mud and tattered clothing, I could smell him before I could reach him with my blade.

I stepped into the swing. The machete cut with ease. I severed the head and right arm at the shoulder, causing his body to flop onto the loose gravel. “Sorry about that, Marf. I am. I’m sorry about that.”

“Get in, Daddy, get in.”

Felt a little like deja vu. Palmeri and Erway sat up front.

Dave and Sues sat across from me.

Allison and Charlene sat on either side of me.

Only thing missing was Cash.

“Everything is going to be fine,” I said.

And the Academy Award goes to…

THE END…

Don’t missing the thrilling conclusion to the VACCINATION Trilogy in

Phillip Tomasso’s

PRESERVATION

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June 26, Chiquibul, Belize –

Roger Curry clambered up the rugged rocky slope, little knowing that each step brought him closer to death. Even if he had known, he would not have retreated. Roger was no adventurer, but his friends were missing and it had fallen on him to find them. The oppressive heat and humidity of the Belize jungle didn’t help matters. Roger, used to milder Tennessee summers, stopped frequently to wipe the beads of sweat from his face before they rolled stinging into his eyes with his already soaking wet handkerchief. His shirt was plastered to his clammy skin, and his damp underwear chafed his crotch. He resisted the urge to reach down his pants and scratch his scrotum. He moved with slightly less agility than did his guide, Chiri Hutapec. The young, diminutive Yucatec Mayan scampered over the loose boulders and sharp limestone scree with the agility of a New World monkey.