by Katz, Gayle
“Well, the best thing,” said Charlie, “is to get out and do lots of walking. At least three hours a day.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks,” said Stewart, looking mournfully at the pile of books he had yet to read.
Zan was starting to get anxious. She got up and paced the room. There wasn’t a lot of walking space, as Stewart’s apartment was quite small. She paced from one room to another, stretching her legs and ending up in the kitchen. There was a window above the sink.
“Hey, guys. You should look at this.” She nodded toward the window.
“What’s up?” asked Owen, getting off the couch and walking the few feet to take a closer look.
“It’s like a fog or something,” answered Zan.
“But it’s a nice warm November. Barely even cold out yet,” said Owen. “Maybe it’s pollution?”
Zan laughed. “Really? I highly doubt that. Have you seen all of the electric and hybrid cars on the road lately?”
“Uh, well, if you can afford them, but I would guess most people are keeping their old cars longer, or buying used,” said Owen.
“Yeah, I’ll keep my classic car, if you don’t mind,” said Charlie. “It’s got character, something that not many cars have nowadays. And hell, I take care of it and don’t even drive it that much.”
“I don’t know much about cars, but I doubt what’s floating around out there is pollution. Let me have a look,” said Stewart.
Charlie pushed up behind them, struggling to get a look out the tiny window. “Hey, I see what you mean. That’s weird.”
Stewart finally got up to have a quick glance, and then ran to his desk to grab a book.
“Do you folks remember when I showed you the illustration from this history book about the Founding Fathers of America? And how there were two zombies sitting with them at the table?”
Charlie was the first one to get bored of staring out the window. “Yeah?” She walked over to the desk.
He flipped to the pertinent page. “Well, I saw this the other day. Look how the illustration has become blurred.”
Charlie looked down at the book. “That’s odd. It’s like there is a fog covering the image now.”
“Yes, most curious,” said Stewart.
“You don’t think that it’s related to what is happening outside, do you?” she asked.
Zan and Owen went back to sit on the couch.
“It could be,” he replied. “It’s like this zombie outbreak is progressing.”
“But how fast could it be progressing?” asked Zan. “There aren’t as many zombies out there as there have been in the past.”
Owen looked toward the history book. “I have a really bad feeling about this.”
Stewart pulled open the drawer of his desk. Then he pulled it out and placed it on the floor. He reached his arm deep inside and pulled against something.
They heard a rattling sound as he pulled another drawer out. The drawer was wide, but short in depth. He carried it over to the coffee table and put it down.
“What do you have there?” asked Charlie, peering in. “Is that a wooden box?”
“Well, I hoped it wouldn’t ever come to this,” Stewart said, lifting the lid to reveal its secret contents.
“Are those weapons?” asked Owen. “If so, they look like they wouldn’t even hurt a cat.”
Zan glared at him.
“Hey! What?” he said, noticing her look. “It’s not like I’d ever hurt one.”
Inside the scuffed box were two dirty and beat up looking daggers. They were heavily tarnished. The edges were nicked and chipped.
“Maybe they’d look decent if they were cleaned up,” said Zan.
“When I worked in Texas, at the same school that Charlie went to, I found these daggers down in the basement.”
“Neat,” said Owen. “These old daggers were in the basement of the school?”
Stewart nodded. “Yes. Strange, I know. I found them hidden away in the dark recesses of the basement. And I do believe there is magic in them.”
Charlie peered at the daggers. “Cool. You never told me about this, other than the one you gave me.”
“Well, I wanted to examine them first. Then I forgot all about them. But the other day, after Sergeant Bourne called to tell me that Philly had died in the hospital, I suddenly remembered I had them packed away.”
“Wow,” said Owen, reaching forward to touch one.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Stewart. “I’m still in the process of placing protective spells on them for you.”
Zan’s eyes widened. “I don’t think I need one. I’m perfectly happy with the dagger I already have.”
“I’ll take hers,” said Charlie. “I’ll bet they polish up real nice.”
“Interesting,” said Owen, staring at them. “They do seem to hold some sort of power.”
Stewart smiled, and felt good about it. “I do believe these daggers may hold the key to killing off all the zombies, once and for all.” Then his phone beeped. He picked it up. “And, I really should get to work on that, as Jay has just texted me a message that there are zombies on the loose at the local women’s prison.”
“Oh, can we go?” asked Charlie.
“Yes, but only the gals. Sorry, Owen.”
He shrugged. “But I know they have male guards at the prison.”
“No, I need you to stay here and do something for me.”
Zan and Charlie grabbed the gear they needed from their bags, and then had an argument on the way down the stairs as to whose car they should take.
Chapter 2
________________________________________
Zan and Charlie drove up to the prison’s gate. Charlie was prepared to roll down her window to show ID, but the guard just pushed a button and waved her through. As soon as the gate was fully up, she drove her VW Beetle through.
Zan sat in the passenger seat. She perked up when she saw how easy it was to get through. “Wow. So it’s easier going into prison than out.”
“No kidding,” replied Charlie. “Otherwise, everyone would be doing it. I guess I can park where these other vehicles are.” She parked, and then the two young women exited the car.
“Hey! Are you Bourne’s girls?” called out a voice.
Zan walked forward and smiled. “Why yes, we—” she started to say.
“We’re not anyone’s girls,” said Charlie, pushing in front of her. “If Sergeant Jay Bourne called to say that Charlie and Zan were on the way, then yes, that’s us.”
“I’m Larry,” he replied, ignoring her comment. “I’m the senior guard here.” He motioned them forward. “We’re trying to keep this quiet and contained. It’s only Cell Block Z that’s affected.”
Zan giggled, then stopped when Charlie glared at her.
“Cell Block Z? Is that a joke or something?” asked Charlie.
“No, I wish it was. Follow me.” The guard led them into the building and to a stairwell. They walked down to the bottom. At the end was a door. He pulled out a set of keys and tapped a key fob against it. “Here,” he said, handing an extra fob to Charlie. “You may need to exit in a hurry.”
“Thanks.” She took it and tucked it into her jeans pocket.
“Say, you two girls look too young to be soldiers.”
“It’s zlayer, not soldier,” said Zan.
“How about zoldier?” he asked.
She shrugged.
“It’s more our superpower,” said Charlie. “Unless you can convince the marines that there really are zombies.”
He smirked. “As soon as I saw these zombies, I knew what they were. I’ve seen zombies around Portland before, but you’re right. There is a whole lot of deniability in this part of the world.” He motioned them into the hallway.
“Yuck,” said Zan. “I feel bad for the women who are in here.”
“Follow me,” said Larry. “And don’t feel bad. Here is Martha. She killed each of her three husbands for their money.”
Martha looked up at the two girls and frowned at them. They followed after Larry.
“This is Tina. She trafficked several teenage girls. Some of them are now dead. And down here is Pen. She sold tainted drugs to children.”
“Aww, I hate to think what happened to cause them to go rogue,” said Charlie, trying not to stare into the cells.
“Yeah, this is where we keep the worst offenders,” explained Larry. “For your average misdemeanor, they are in the top block. Most of them are out in less than a year. Fortunately, the zombie outbreak didn’t happen up there.”
“So, where are the zombies?” asked Zan, losing interest in the criminals.
“In here,” said Larry. He tapped his fob against the door and opened it.
Charlie peered inside. “The First-Aid room?”
He nodded. “Yep. We managed to get all of the infected inside here. But then we realized that we needed help with cleanup, if you get my drift.” He winked at them. “Use your fob to open the inner door. Oh, and good luck.” He quickly turned and walked away.
“Typical,” said Zan. “They never stay and help.”
“Let’s get to it,” said Charlie. “There must be at least a dozen in there.”
“Well, I’m comforted in knowing that these were the worst of the worst,” said Zan, pulling out her dagger.
“I’m not. They’re still human beings, or, at least, they were.”
“Focus,” said Zan. “We can mourn them later, all right? Right now we have a job to do.”
Charlie turned and looked at her. “Oh, I know. I know.” She pulled out her dagger, and then tapped the fob against the switch. The door clicked open. “Let’s do it!”
zzz
“What’s up for today?” Mayor Jane Cote adjusted her designer suit and light blue satin blouse.
“The press is here, remember? For your special announcement?”
Jane’s eyes widened. “That’s right. Are they in the boardroom?”
Marta nodded.
“Good, I’ll be right there.” The mayor smirked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She followed after Marta and headed down to the boardroom.
Inside the room, she made her way to the head of the table where a rather large carved wooden chair awaited her. There were several other smaller but similar chairs scattered around the table. These were filled with members of the press. Some held notebooks, while others had video recorders or tablets.
Jane spent extra time in getting settled before speaking. Marta handed her a tablet, but she left it on the table, not needing it.
“Thank you everyone for coming today. I know everyone is super busy these days, but I feel that this issue can’t wait any longer. For the past year or so, there has been a zombie rights group in Portland.” She paused.
“Was Philomena Arora the leader of that group?”
Marta stood up. “Please, everyone. Mayor Cote will answer all your questions when she’s done.”
“Thank you, Marta. As I was saying, this zombie rights group is misguided, though, I understand your concerns. These zombies were someone’s spouse, someone’s child. But they are essentially corpses and their souls are gone. They are not who they once were. But they deserve a proper burial. A respectful burial. Unfortunately, this zombie rights group has veered from what was originally intended. Philomena Jones was the leader of the group. No, she was not part of the Arora family. She stole the Arora name to use as her own, to make it appear that she was part of Dr. Arora’s family, and to assume control of the zombie gang in the doctor’s absence. Perhaps she worked with Dr. Arora in the past. But my point is that she worked with Dr. Arora’s zombie gang to intentionally infect the living. And that, my friends, is a crime. So, here on out, any zombie rights group is banned from Portland. Any meetings on private or public premises are not allowed. Anyone found participating in such a club will be placed under arrest.”
She was done. The press suddenly started calling out questions.
She pointed to a man in front.
“Do zombies still have rights? If there is no governing body, who will watch over them?”
“Well, unfortunately, zombies are dead. They can’t be allowed to roam the city, eating people. I believe in humane killing, then returning their remains to their families for proper burial. I also believe in fully eradicating zombies from not only Portland, but the entire country.”
“How will you do that?” the reporter asked.
“I’m not certain yet. I’ve been working on it. Right now, zombies are fifty percent magic and fifty percent science. If only we could get the FDA on our side. They have the resources to make a vaccine. As for magic, I have an expert working on that side.”
“Is it possible a vaccine could be made? So that if one of us were injected by one of these criminals, that we could be saved?”
“Yes,” she replied. “But it’s a lot more complicated than having a rabid dog or rat bite you, then going to the hospital for a rabies vaccine. This zombie virus is complicated by the addition of magic. It seems to override a lot of what science we do know about.”
“Can you set up a lab here in Portland?” asked another reporter. “Why wait for the FDA to get their shit together?”
Jane smiled and nodded. “Yes, but that takes money. As some of you know, my budget has been under scrutiny lately.”
“Give up your designer suits,” called out a voice in the crowd.
She smirked. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I think we can tighten the budget to create this lab. However, it will be in a secret and undisclosed location.”
“I heard you had someone working on a vaccine already?” another voice called out.
Marta looked worriedly at her. The mayor winked back.
“And if that’s it for the questions, I really need to get back to work. Thank you all for attending.” She stood up and walked out of the room.
zzz
Charlie and Zan peered through the small mesh window of the door to the First-Aid room. Inside, about a dozen zombies were aimlessly wandering around. Some tried to climb over cots and chairs, then toppled down onto the ground, before picking themselves back up again.
One zombie ran at another. She bit the other zombie in the shoulder. The first zombie pushed at her, while she spat out the flesh and blood, realizing that the other zombie wasn’t food.
“Ha-ha! Did you see that?” said Charlie.
“Gross,” said Zan. “I guess they’re getting hungry.” Zan snuck a look from behind her head.
“OK, so I have an idea,” said Charlie.
“Really? That never happens,” said Zan.
“I need an object. Let’s see.” Charlie pulled off her small backpack purse. She rummaged around inside. “Well, I suppose oranges are as good as anything.”
Zan glared at her. “Really? You didn’t think to eat before we came here?”
“Honestly, Zan, you need another vacation or something, or take a chill pill.”
“Relax,” she said, a smile crept onto her face. “I was joking.”
“Same here. OK, here goes.” Charlie tapped the fob against the switch. The door clicked open.
Before the zombies could turn at the noise, she tossed an orange over the heads of the zombies. Before the first one even hit the wall, she’d lobbed the next two over their heads too.
The zombies briefly looked at the girls before turning to the sounds of the oranges hitting the wall.
“They’re distracted. Let’s go.”
“Good one,” said Zan in admiration. She followed after her friend.
Charlie killed the first zombie in front of her, while Zan took out the one standing next to it.
Charlie smiled as she got the next two from the back.
Zan laughed. “Usually, it’s not this easy.”
But she had no sooner spoken, then the four zombies nearest to them tired of the oranges bouncing around the floor and turned to face the teens.
Charlie felt the benefit
s of going to the gym on a regular basis. With the addition of her zombie slaying magic, she quickly killed the next two zombies. Zan easily took out the next two beside her.
The final remaining zombies rushed at Zan and Charlie, mouths opened wide.
Zan kicked against one of the zombies, pushing it away.
“Go ahead and try to bite me, jerk,” said Charlie, taunting the zombie. “You aren’t infectious.” Charlie reached out her arm and grabbed it around the neck to hold it steady. Its teeth chomped up and down. Then blood and brains splattered everywhere. “Oh yuck,” said Charlie.
“Ha! You took too long,” said Zan.
“Funny,” replied Charlie. She saw a sink by the wall and went to wash off. “Is that it?”
“I think so,” said Zan. “I’ll double-check. Larry can have fun cleaning up this mess.” A few minutes later, Zan returned to rejoin her friend.
“OK. We’re all set. Let’s go home,” said Charlie.
The girls walked to the door. Charlie rummaged around in her pocket for the fob. She pulled it out and tapped the switch.
“Huh? Is the battery dead?” asked Zan.
“Must be,” said Charlie, tossing it on the floor.
“That’s just great. How do we get out?”
“Well, Larry should be wondering where we are by now,” said Charlie, shrugging.
Chapter 3
________________________________________
“I’m not certain that I believe you,” said Jane, standing by the display case. In it were several artifacts from Portland’s past.
“Believe it,” said Marta. “Every time I remove it, it comes back.”
“What? I believe in zombies, but they don’t just pop back into position after you dispose of them. Can you imagine?” She smirked.
“Well, let me show you then.” Marta walked up to the case and inserted a small brass key into the lock at the bottom of the case. She slid one of the glass doors to the left to reveal what they believed was an ancient mask.
