The Town of Last Haven: A Zombie Novel

Part 32

After discussing what had happened between Julia Brown and Tanner Evans with the others--the other leader types in the town--they'd acted almost as judges hearing what Natalie and Jake had seen. They didn't take more than two minutes to agree to kick Tanner out, send him into exile as anyone would rightly do these days for an act like that.

If one thought Jake looked pissed at Tanner, the look that Natalie gave to him was that of utter fury. She may not have been the strongest Brown sister, but what she lacked in physical strength she made up for in heart. And her heart was heavy, raging beneath her ribs.

"You were my sister's friend, Tanner. How could you do this to her? Betray her like that?" Natalie asked him through gritted teeth.

Tanner was hungover from the alcohol, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. "A man wants what a man wants," he drawled.

"But a man can't have everything he wants." Natalie's jaw was tight, muscles and fists tense.

Jake stood by Natalie's side, ready to pull her back from punching Tanner and keeping her from lashing out for a kill. Julia was standing behind them, white-faced and unblinking, her gaze on Tanner. She wasn't shaking anymore, but she was still in shock--that much was certain.

Julia was silent as her mind raced from thought to thought of what conspired today alone. Luke had acted selfishly again, Tanner had tried to attack her, she broke up with Luke, and she'd lost her friend because he was out of his mind with sheer jealousy. There was no one to be jealous of concerning Julia anymore--no more boyfriend and no more best friend.

"You know our laws, Tanner Evans," said one of the former town councilmen who looked like he'd aged a decade even though the apocalypse began only a year and a half--almost two years ago. "What you tried to do to Julia Brown deserves justice and consequence."

"I know, I know!" Tanner was angered himself, but for the wrong reasons. "I get kicked out and put into exile." He looked to each of the armed gunmen on either side of him, then looked to Jake and the Brown sisters.

"If I said sorry," he let out a half-smile, "would I be allowed to stay? Or at least get a gun on my way out?" He cracked his neck from side to side, then burped into a fist. His breath reeked of the booze, and both Julia and Natalie were disgusted by him.

"You get nothing," Natalie snarled, then turned to Jake. With her back turned, Julia coming a few steps closer to Tanner but not close enough for him to grab her, she took out something small from her pocket.

"You get this." Natalie and Jake were confused--they didn't know what Julia held until she tossed it at Tanner's feet. "You said it was a present, and I'm now giving it back to you." Julia's voice sounded stronger, but only partially. "I don't want it... I don't want any part of you. Never, ever again."

The present was a pocketknife. Tanner's mom bought it for his dad way back when, then he gave it to Tanner. It was almost a family heirloom for the second generation, and Tanner--seeing as he was totally in love with Julia from day one--he'd given it to her as a symbol of his love for her. Julia thought mere friendship, but she was blind to Tanner's feelings for her for so long.

By now, a crowd was gathering around them, seeing the interaction between former friends, former allies of this hellhole that humanity was still enduring. Luke was in the crowd with his hoodie pulled over his face to shade his identity. No one paid him any mind, and his eyes were focused solely on Julia.

"You're leaving today, Tanner." Jake looked to the gunmen around Tanner, nodded once, and watched as Tanner picked up the pocketknife before being taken back to his dilapidated house to gather a satchel of what little he had left--no booze, of course. Tanner stuffed into the bag the pocketknife, a lighter--one with his dad's initials carved into it--a sweatshirt, a notebook with a few pencils, and a book. There was little he had here, so there was little he'd be exiled with.

One of the gunmen took Tanner by the arm and led him to the town gates. His bag was tossed into the back of the pickup truck, then he himself got in too. Jake was waiting for him, armed with a loaded pistol ready to fire. His face was stone cold, eyes hateful and harsh.

The driver of the pickup drove the car outside the city gates--Julia and Natalie watching as the gates closed before them--and drove onward to the end of the dirt road. Tanner felt his head swimming amid thoughts of Julia and the aftermath of the alcohol, the hangover.

"Get out." Jake ordered Tanner to leave, but the blonde was less than happy to go. "I won't say it again, Tanner."

"You know," he said, "we could have been friends--"

Jake cut him off right there. "We could never be friends. What you did was wrong." Jake's hands were white-knuckled and tight themselves. "I should shoot you right here, right now."

"I won't stop you," said the driver in the pickup. "Go ahead." He was almost condoning the act of a beaten death, but Jake wasn't one to kill unless he had to.

"Go to hell, Tanner." Jake took in a breath and shoved Tanner out of the back, the blonde staggering back and forth. He watched as the car started up again, then turned and headed back to the town.

"I'll be back," Tanner grimaced, that scar still paining him. "Oh, believe me, you bastards, I'll be back with an army of the undead. You won't know what hit you."

Tanner dropped his bag on the ground, muddying the worn fabric. He mumbled a curse, then pulled out a half-empty bottle of alcohol he hadn't known was in the bag to begin with. He chugged it down, then threw it at the pickup. The truck was out of sight by now, and the shattering was audible--too loud at this point.

"Fuck you!" he shouted, dropping to his knees. He was angered, pissed, hurt--everything under the sun and everything in the book. He looked at the sun through the treetops, still blindingly bright, and he cursed again. Tanner stood up from the ground, then reached for his bag. Before he could react though, he felt hands and arms cling to him from behind. He let out a cry of pain as he felt his flesh torn, a chunk of pale flesh ripped from his back and neck.

Three wanderers were on him. And they were attacking him.

Tanner punched one in the cheek so hard that it's jaw came clean off, the stink of death filling his nose, making him gag. Blood spattered, droplets flying into his mouth. Tanner spit, but the zombies were still scratching and biting him, and Tanner wondered, 'Is this how it's going to end?'

With one of the zombies no longer biting him, he focused on 'disarming' the other two. He grabbed his pocketknife from the mud, flipping the blade up, and slit the throat of the second zombie. Its head came clean off, and the blonde stomped hard on its skull. Its brain-matter squished and sloshed beneath his boots, giving off a scent worse than a dead skunk. Tanner hurled up nothing, gagging again, then stabbed the third zombie in the temple.

They went down, and Tanner dropped to his knees again in exhaustion. His shirt was beyond repair, covered in his own blood and that of the zombies', and when he pulled the tatters off he saw scratches and bite marks on his shoulders.

"Fuck," he said quietly. "I'm going to die." And Tanner wasn't all that upset about it. No chance in hell he'd ever get with Julia--deep down he knew that--and there was no chance in hell he'd survive the zombie bites. 

Tanner knew, today or tomorrow or the day after that, sometime he would be dead and then undead.