Zombie Slayer Box Set 1

by Gayle Katz

  She checked her map and headed down the block to the back alley where zombies had been sighted. There was some gangland graffiti on the walls. She stared at it, but none of it seemed zombie-related. The zombie gang in the south had actually painted strange symbols at their headquarters. She assumed that a new gang of zombies would likely use the same symbols, but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

  Charlie walked straight down the alley. If there were any zombies lurking here, she might as well get it out of the way. As she walked, she smelled a putrid scent floating through the air. She abruptly turned left and headed to a silver trash can. Sure enough, inside was what appeared to be a dismembered human, or what was left of him anyway. She definitely was on the right track.

  She headed back down the alley and whistled and sang, being certain that whoever was lurking in the distance knew that she was only a small, unassuming female.

  Someone was there. He came out of the shadows. He wasn’t too far-gone yet. The only clues that something was amiss were that he was missing his shoes, and the bloodstain around the lower part of his face. Looking at his head, she noticed his eyes glowed green. His arms reached out for her with that distinctive zombie stance.

  Two seconds later, he’d been stabbed through the head and was lying dead on the ground, for the second time. She dragged the body into a large dumpster. In her experience, only the homeless sorted through the trash cans and dumpsters and they didn’t say anything when there were dead bodies in there, as that could indicate guilt. Unfortunately, a lot of good people went missing that way too.

  She did two more rounds of the alley, even checking behind the dumpsters and trash cans, but she found nothing. She was standing in the middle of the alley when she heard something. It sounded like someone was pounding on a window.

  She glanced behind her. Just as she reached for her dagger, the zombie smashed through the glass window and launched himself at her.

  “Stupid move! Now you’ve attracted everyone’s attention!” she cried. It took only a moment, but soon he was dispatched. She moved his body into the large dumpster. She heard voices in the distance.

  She would have left right then, but where there were two zombies, there would be more. She hopped through the broken window, just as people came into the alley. She squatted down and watched. It appeared to be tourists. They had a peek, and then decided to leave. Wise move. If there were any more zombies here, they’d quickly be avocado toast.

  When they were gone, she grabbed a flashlight out of her backpack and turned it on. She shined the light around the tiny room, revealing what appeared to be a small entryway. There were stairs, so she walked up them. Once upstairs, it appeared to be a normal apartment dwelling. She lightly padded down the hallway, trying each doorknob. They were all locked. That was good news as it meant that the zombie hadn’t been able to bite anyone.

  Zombies were relatively stupid. They could push or pull their weight, but they couldn’t figure out how to turn a doorknob or use a key. That meant that the guy probably had been bitten hours earlier and had just happened to be near the exit when he turned.

  There wasn’t much happening here, so she went back down the stairs, the only way out. She slipped out the window, and then heard someone in the building walking down the steps. She hid behind one of the trash cans.

  She watched as a man left the building. She abruptly jerked her head back when she saw that it was Principal Allan. What on earth was he doing here? Was it possible he lived in such a rundown building? Highly unlikely for a high school principal who probably got paid in the high five figures.

  She watched as he walked down to Main Street and headed for a parking garage. There was nothing to do but follow him.

  zzz

  Charlie had to check in and out whenever she was on location. That was the rule between her and Stewart. She pulled her cellphone from her pocket and dialed him.

  “Hi, Charlie! How is the gig?”

  “Fine. I killed two, and saw one dead human.”

  “Great, err, I mean about the zombies,” he replied.

  “Do you know where Principal Allan lives? I saw him leaving this location.”

  “Really?” asked Stewart. “That’s odd. I think he lives in Vancouver. I can’t think why he’d be in that part of town, unless he was visiting the book shop.”

  “He was nowhere near the books,” Charlie said.

  “Well, check it out and keep me posted.”

  “Will do,” she said, folding the phone and jamming it back in her pocket.

  zzz

  So far, surveillance had been fairly boring. She peered at him through the bushes. Principal Allan looked to be in no shape or form, a zombie. A zombie leader could mask as a human, but their eyes would still glow green.

  She watched as he entered a coffee shop. There’s nothing odd about that. She wanted to give up, yet she felt that she was missing something. She was seriously ready to head home and do her homework, but she needed to find out what was going on. She decided to take the most practical tactic.

  Charlie walked right into the coffee shop, like she just happened to be in the area.

  “Hey, Principal Allan, fancy running into you here,” she said, as he sat at a table sipping a drink. Startled, his head and shoulders lurched forward abruptly. Seated across from him was a woman, obviously, not his wife.

  “Oh. Hi, Charlie! I’m just here chatting with my friend.” But he didn’t give her name.

  “Great! Sounds good. I’m going to check out the bookstore before it closes tonight.” She ordered and received her drink.

  Allan watched her carefully. He seemed a bit disturbed that she decided to hang around and take a seat near the wall.

  Charlie listened to their conversation, but most of it seemed like small talk. They talked about school curriculum and the weather. She finished her coffee and tossed the empty cup into the trash can. She waved at the principal and headed near the door. But, instead of leaving, she ducked into the bathroom.

  Charlie quickly did her business, and then she slowly opened the door up and peered around the corner. He was still there with his friend.

  She could make out some words. It sounded something like, “zombie drugs” or “zombie deal.”

  She remembered when she worked at a small store in Dallas and there had been talk among the staff about someone’s son taking a zombie drug or something.

  But then they suddenly got up from their seats, so she ducked back into the bathroom. When she was certain they were gone, she left the shop and headed for the bus stop. She’d have to quiz Stewart to see if he knew anything about this zombie drug. Hopefully, it had nothing to do with zombies, but on the other hand, if it did, it could be extremely dangerous.

  Chapter 3

  ________________________________________

  It was back to biology class again, but Charlie showed up early before the students had a chance to arrive.

  “So, do you have my new dagger yet?” she asked Mr. George.

  “What do you think?” he retorted.

  “Whoa, I’m only joking,” she said.

  “Sorry, it was a long night. I had to do some investigating. But at least we have more to go on.”

  “Good, any steps closer to finding the zleader?” She went to the back of the classroom and dropped her backpack on the floor.

  “Maybe. There’s a place I want you to check out after school.” Mr. George consulted the map on his desk. “It involves buying drugs.”

  “Wow, only three days in town and I’m a druggie,” she said jokingly.

  “Right,” he said, not really paying attention.

  “Do I have to do it right after school? I’m supposed to show Owen some self-defense moves.”

  “Oh, you can bring him along.”

  Charlie dropped her pen on the desk and stomped up to the teacher’s desk.

  “What are you saying? I’m not going to put a civilian’s life at risk.”

  He lift
ed his head and looked at her. “I thought you said you were teaching him self-defense.”

  “Well, yeah, but it’s so he can beat up bullies, not zombie-dealers.”

  “Fine. Go alone then. But the usual rules apply.”

  Charlie adopted a slightly self-righteous smile on her face and nodded. “Great. I’ll go after I teach him some moves.” She went back to her desk and sat down.

  “I thought you weren’t into zombie games anymore?” Mr. George asked her.

  She glared back at him. “Well, as it turns out, there is nothing to do in this town, so it gives me something to do.”

  “Nothing to do? We’re in Portland, Oregon. There is a world-class art gallery just a few steps from us. There are theatres, shopping, and arcades. Or you could just do your homework.”

  “Nah,” she said.

  Just then, they heard footsteps coming closer. It was time to can the conversation and focus on schoolwork. The first student through the door was Zan.

  “Hey, someone’s early to class. Usually it’s me.” She took her seat at the front of the room.

  zzz

  Charlie met Owen on the field after classes were over.

  “Now, stand sideways, as there is less for an attacker to grab onto.”

  “Like this?” he asked, turning sideways.

  “Yep. And hold your arms up like this for defense. You can use them to deflect a blow. While they can get hurt, a stab wound won’t kill you like it would if they reached your heart.”

  “Stab wound, whoa! The meanies from my other school don’t have knives,” he said, protesting.

  “Seriously, Owen. What country do you live in? Of course they have knives! Watch the news!”

  “OK. OK,” he said, getting back into his stance.

  “What do you do if someone grabs you by the neck?” she asked.

  “Hey, I know this one!” He placed his hands together in a prayer position, and then lifted them up into the air. Then he swooped down on both sides, knocking her arms away from his body through pure weight and gravity. Then he jumped back.

  “Good!” she said, pleased. “You already know this stuff. It’s just a matter of practice.”

  “But, what happens if I freeze?”

  “You won’t. Your instincts kick in, fueled by adrenaline,” she explained.

  “Hey cool!” he said, raising his fists up into the air and jumping around the field. “Now I’m protected from a zombie attack.”

  This made her pause. She wondered how much he really knew.

  “Hey, you OK?” he asked her, putting his fists back down and ceasing movement. “Sometimes you get too quiet.”

  “Oh, it’s not you. I have a lot on my mind.” There, she did it. She didn’t blurt out the truth. She did have some sort of magical protection. She was a zlayer after all. “I lost my parents a few years back. And it’s like I have to be an adult now.”

  “I know what you mean. I have a part-time job to help support my family. Dad says I don’t have to do it, but I know I do. It helps to build our savings so I’m not such a drain on my parents when I go to college.”

  “Yep,” she said. “Oh, there’s Zan. Night, Zan!” she called out to her as Zan climbed into her BMW. “Geesh! A BMW. Her family must be loaded.”

  Zan looked back at them and waved.

  “She’s been less on the jokey comments lately.”

  “Well, it does get old after a while,” said Charlie.

  “Well, time for me to get home,” said Owen. “Thanks for the tips! Let’s hope I never ever have to use them.”

  “I pray that you won’t ever have to use them either,” she said.

  As she headed to her own car, she wondered why Zan had stayed late after school. She wasn’t the type of person who’d be in detention or who’d need special attention for a math problem or project.

  As she drove around the back of the school, she saw Principal Allan leave the building. Odd. Why would he stay late too? Of course he was the principal, so they must put in overtime, but the hairs standing up on the back of her neck said that something was up. Could that be the reason why Zan had stayed late?

  zzz

  “Hi, Gran,” said Charlie to her grandmother.

  “Hi, dear. Dinner is almost ready.” Gran was making lasagna and had just taken it out of the oven. “Are you going to the library again tonight?”

  “Yes, I am,” said Charlie. “Got a big project to do. But I’ll only be away for a couple of hours.”

  Gran knew that Charlie was a zombie slayer, but Charlie never brought it up and neither did Gran. She simply accepted that she had a strong female granddaughter and tried to guide her along as best she could, even if the cops dropped her off at home a few times, or she had a few bruises on her arms. She trusted her to look after herself.

  They only had each other, so Gran also knew Charlie didn’t want her to be placed in danger. That had happened once, back in Dallas. That was one reason why Gran had pushed for the move to Portland, in fact, or at least a robbery had been the cover for it.

  After Charlie had killed the zombie leader, the city and even the state were fairly safe from zombie gangs for at least a few months. There was no one left to target them there, but Gran knew Charlie had been tired of fighting and wanted to lead a normal life.

  That’s why when the police had dropped Charlie back at home one night, saying that she had been attacked by a gang, but had fended for herself, Gran knew it was time to make a change. After that, Charlie had agreed with Gran to move to Portland.

  Now on the same page, they sold their house in Dallas and bought a new one in Portland. Unfortunately, Stewart must have figured it out, and followed them there after he learned of the danger that Portland was now facing.

  Gran frowned thinking about Charlie and her obligations. Of course there was no one else in Dallas, and now Portland, who could fight zombies, except for a few random cops. She sighed.

  “Dinner is ready,” said Gran.

  zzz

  Charlie was in another dark alley, awaiting instructions. She held her cellphone close to her, with a large dagger in her right hand. Her phone rang.

  “Hey, Stewart,” she answered.

  “OK, so my sources say that you head for the sign that says FORTUNES FORETOLD, and that’s where they’re selling drugs.”

  “Right,” she answered. “But I’m not looking for weed or coke, or bath salts.”

  “Nope, this is a new drug. It’s believed that it’s manufactured from zombie blood and has a street name of zrug, at least that’s what I’m told.”

  She kept up her watch outside. “Figures. Wait, if it’s made from zombie blood, then wouldn’t drug users who take it also turn into zombies?”

  “Not quite. It’s heated to a certain temperature to destroy the virus, but not enough to destroy its magical properties. Apparently, the drug has an effect on the user’s brain,” explained Stewart. “We’re not quite sure what yet. I’m in contact with a coroner who’s dissecting a human who took too much of it.”

  “Yuck,” Charlie commented. “Sounds worse than bath salts or meth.”

  “It is, because long term usage leads to death,” said Stewart.

  How ironic, Charlie thought to herself. Instead of turning you into a zombie, all the zombie drug did was kill you. “OK, so, you want me to figure out if they’re dealing?” she asked.

  “Exactly. Good luck.” He hung up.

  Charlie muttered to herself when she was annoyed. Why didn’t they send a cop to do the dirty work? Why send her? A cop could raid the joint. Well, here goes.

  She walked up to the brightly painted, but extremely chipped, front door of the residence and knocked.

  The door slowly swung open. A woman stood there, not wearing a lot of clothing. She looked Charlie up and down, a puzzled expression appeared on her face. “What do you want?”

  “I’m here for some zombie fortune,” she said, making something up on the spot.

  “What?
I don’t understand what you’re sayin’.”

  “I heard that with the help of a certain zrug that one lives outside their time,” she explained. “Sounds similar to your services.”

  The woman pushed the door open wider, grabbed her arm, and pulled her in. “Fine, you come in and wait here.” The woman closed and locked the door.

  A couple minutes later, two men came into the living room where she waited. They looked like thugs.

  “So you look a little too old,” commented the first one.

  “A bit too scrawny,” said the second one.

  She shook her head. “Look, I’m here to get drugs,” she explained.

  “Well, great, you’re in the right place then,” said the first thug. He plopped down onto a chair but didn’t offer her one. The other gangster just stood there looking her over.

  “So, what types of drugs do you want, and can you pay? I mean in cash. No offense, little lady,” he said.

  “OK, let’s get one thing straight. I’m not a prostitute and I’m not for sale. I’m looking to buy.”

  The two men looked at each other, eyes open wide.

  The first guy looked at her. “OK, we got it all. Meth, weed, though that don’t sell much now seeing as you can buy it at any shop, coke, bath salts, and speed.”

  “We even have strychnine,” said the other guy.

  “What?” Charlie asked.

  “You know, in case you want to off someone.”

  Charlie had a horrified look on her face as they laughed.

  “No, I’m not trying to kill someone. I’m looking for the zombie drug. I think it’s called zrug on the streets?”