Zombie Pink

by Noel Merczel

  Right on cue, there was the distinctive clap of a gunshot outside.

  Or was it thunder?

  "This is going to make history!" Gina's Mom declared.

  "WELL, THAT STILL MEANS WE SHOULD MAKE SURE ALL THE DOORS ARE LOCKED!" Gina screeched. "WHY ISN'T THERE ANY ONE ON THAT NEWS CHANNEL? WHERE ARE THEY ALL?"

  The other news channel said there were no police around! The rising panic in Gina's chest was making her feel like she was choking.

  "Calm down," Gina's Mom soothed, still scratching the angry red bite which seemed to be growing by the second. "The doors are all locked, and...."

  Just then, a loud crash emanated from the DeFazio's kitchen. The family all stopped what they were doing mid-stream and froze.

  CHAPTER TEN

  "This is definitely going too far!" Mr. DeFazio growled. "Not in my house!"

  Gina's father stood up, exhibiting all the bravado he could muster. After all, he was the man of the house!

  After that, the middle aged man with the fishing hat and the T-shirt that said KISS MY BASS stomped menacingly into the kitchen.

  Gina felt like she was hyperventilating. She needed a paper bag to breath into, like they always show on TV. She swallowed a lump the size of a biscuit in her throat.

  Gina's mother didn't say anything. She just sat there fingering her cross necklace with her eyes closed, mumbling to herself.

  "I thought you said it was all fake!" Gina whispered accusingly.

  Just then, Gina heard Mr. DeFazio scream the loudest, most blood curdling scream she had ever heard. Well actually, Gina had never heard her father scream at all before that moment.

  Immediately, Mrs. DeFazio and Gina jumped off the couch and raced towards the front door. Then they stopped. There was no noise coming from the kitchen any more. Just an eerie silence.

  "Frank?" Mrs. DeFazio asked in a tiny voice.

  Still nothing.

  Gina and her mom looked at each other, neither one of them knowing what to do. Suddenly, there was another super loud clattering noise which sounded like a stack of pots crashing onto the floor.

  Then a man who bore a sickly magenta rash appeared around the corner. He stared at Gina and her mom with strange glowing white eyes and a weird little smile on his face.

  "Eaaaa...." he drooled leering at them; bloody spittle dribbling out of his mouth.

  His limp greasy hair was caked with blood. He took a step towards them, smiling with blood tinged teeth.

  "RUN!" Gina shrieked. "IF THIS IS A PROMOTION FOR THAT SHOW, I'M SURE AS HELL NOT GOING TO WATCH"

  Gina raced across the living room and out the front door, her heart pounding furiously underneath her frilly nightie. She had no shoes on, but that didn't matter. She raced outside, down across the lawn, avoiding the giant pool of blood that had gathered under the Maple tree. Then she stopped for a moment to survey her surroundings.

  "Mom?" she suddenly asked, looking all around.

  Gina's Mom was nowhere to be seen. Then Gina heard her mother scream, "GET A KNIFE, FRANK! GET A KNIFE! FRANK? FRAAAAANK!"

  "This can't be happening!" Gina announced to the dark neighborhood.

  Then she realized just how corny that line sounded.

  Gina pinched herself again. Another loud clap of thunder crackled from above. The echoing boom of a rifle sounded from somewhere nearby, which made her jump.

  This was definitely happening. Whatever this was.

  Where should she go?

  Where was safe?

  Gina looked back at the house. No one was coming after her.

  Where were her parents?

  Why hadn't her mom followed her out the door?

  Gina hoped her parents got out of the house okay, but she wasn't brave enough to go back in and check. The house was ominously silent, offering up no clues.

  Who was that weird creepy person?

  Why had he broken into their home?

  Was he a robber? A serial killer?

  No. He had that virus with the pink rash that controls your brain. Just like they were talking about on the news.

  "It's real!" Gina informed the dark street. "Yikes! Mosquitoes!"

  Gina conducted a quick bug check on her body. Whew. No mosquitoes.

  And she wasn't pregnant and she hadn't been drinking any beer. Her dad would never let her drink beer, and of course she couldn't be pregnant if she never even had sex!

  Although, Gina had to admit, mosquitoes sure did seem to like her. She often got a whole bunch of bites whenever she walked in the woods wearing super short skirts without any underwear underneath. Once she got the itchiest bite right smack in the middle of her naked butt cheek...her biscuit....

  "THE CAR!" Gina suddenly shouted.

  However, a quick inspection of the Defazio's brand new Buick Enclave informed Gina that someone had let the air of out all the tires.

  "That's weird," Gina commented.

  Gina looked up and down Candlepin Avenue. There wasn't anyone else in sight at the moment. Not knowing quite what to do, she slowly headed up the dark street hoping she would run into someone who could help.

  Gina's goal was to make it over to her friend Cara's house. However, Cara lived all the way on the other side of the Shady Oaks development, and Gina could not ascertain exactly where those gunshots were coming from.

  And then there was the matter of the Nelson's scary Rottweiler...or possibly, a stray Pit-bull. Gina was terrified of big aggressive dogs - or even big dogs that weren't aggressive. However, the Nelson's Rotty was terrifying; barking and running after people.

  Gina slowly inched down the street, her heart beating a mile a minute. The road felt weird on her bare feet. Gina hoped and prayed she wouldn't step on a rusty nail since she wasn't sure if her tetanus shot vaccine was still good.

  She wished she could find a large stick to use as a barrier against attacking dogs... or zombies?

  This is Candlepin Avenue, not the woods, Gina told herself. I can see if anything's coming at me.

  Suddenly, Gina saw something...or rather, someone standing next to a large pine tree in the Mathewson's front yard.

  She slowed down, not sure if she should go any further; squinting at the shadowy figure, while trying to figure out who it was.

  It was definitely a woman...was it Mrs. Mathewson? No, Mrs. Mathewson had shoulder length thick curly hair. This woman appeared to have scraggly shortish hair....unless Mrs. Mathewson got a horrible new hair-cut...

  Holy shit! Gina stopped short. It was the woman who had been in Gina's front yard! The one who left the pool of blood (real blood; Gina was positive) underneath the big Maple tree.

  As Gina’s eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw that the woman's face and the side of her head were all ripped up and that she was all bloody. The woman’s eyes were glowing white orbs, just like that man’s eyes – the man who had broken into Gina's house.

  The woman's blue cotton dress sported an ugly pattern of grass stains, dirt, and blood.

  Mimi spotted Gina standing there in the middle of Candlepin Avenue staring at her, wearing cute flowered shorts and a frilly nighty. Suddenly, Mimi's long torn bloody face darkened into a mask of pure evil.

  "Hi..." Gina called out. "Are you okay?"

  Mimi didn't answer. She began stumbling towards Gina.

  "You were attacked!" Gina said, stating the obvious.

  Mimi slowly and methodically lumbered towards Gina, resembling a rabid dog baring it’s teeth.

  Something wasn't right. Gina sensed it.

  She has that brain control virus, Gina thought. She can't understand a word I’m saying. Oh, I wish I had a big stick! I need to vamoose! NOW!

  Running on a huge surge of adrenaline, Gina sprinted around the side of the Mathewson’s house and made a B-line to the shed in their backyard. She flung open the door of the shed and slammed herself in.

  There was no lock!

  Gina pushed a wheelba
rrow against the shed door. She heard thunder crashing overhead, along with more gunshots in the distance. She felt a small modicum of safety in the dark little building.

  Gina sat on a cement block staring at the goose pimples on her bare legs. Change of plans. Instead of trying to make it to Cara's house, she would just stay put until morning.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Clarence Barnaby knew he had to schedule that cataract surgery. He could barely get around by himself anymore, his eyesight was so bad.

  Through the haze of his dim watery vision, he'd noticed that his neighbors across the street, a nice young family, had acquired a new pet... a dog of some sort that squatted in the lawn every day, underneath the big maple tree.

  The dog appeared to be white and orange, and Clarence, always a dog lover, wanted to know what breed it was.

  Sometimes he stared at the dog, trying to adjust his vision. But all he could make out was a blurry white lump with an orange stripe on the bottom. The dog appeared to be very well behaved, he must say. Always staying on one place, never barking.

  Clarence kept putting off the cataract surgery because he just hated hospitals, gosh dang it! All those beeping lights and people in white coats running around.

  He liked his nice familiar house and his nice familiar routine. Oatmeal for breakfast, Campbell's soup for lunch, TV dinner for supper...even though he was sure they would find out those confangled microwaves were dangerous.

  Puttering around the yard during the day and watching Turner Classic movies in the evening... taking a nice long nap after lunch... sure his bones ached and he could barely see. Thanks to Lulu, though - or was it Nita? What was his daughter's name again? Anyway, thanks to his daughter bringing him groceries and cleaning up the place, he was content.

  Clarence's daughter wanted Clarence to move in with her and her family. But Clarence liked his independence, gosh dang it! Most especially, he liked his little TV set up in the living room, with his comfy maroon and black recliner always ready to flop down in.

  Even though he couldn't see the TV screen very well anymore, he liked to sit there and listen to old movies from his youth... a time when men wore suits and women wore hats and everyone had manners. Unlike these modern days of vulgarity, rudeness and disrespect.

  Clarence knew his daughter meant well. She was just such a busy body. Like the way she kept going on and on about some confounded red spot on his face. Cheese and crackers! He didn't care about that kind of thing anymore. Who was he trying to impress?

  His wife, Gertie, had died twenty-seven years ago, and she had been the only woman for him. Even though Betty Dunloper had tried to snag him with her boysenberry pie... he could not stand the fact that she just wasn't Gertie.

  The woman could sure bake a mean pie, though....

  The microwave beeped and Clarence shuffled over to retrieve his Macaroni and Cheese dinner. He picked up the flimsy cardboard tray with a dirty cloth that used to be white and was now dark brown.

  Then he toted the paper tray over to his scuffed up table that was next to his maroon and black recliner. A bottle of root beer and the remote control awaited him.

  Clarence clicked on the TV, but instead of Singing in the Rain which was supposed to be on, there was some stupid news program.

  "What in tarnation?" he grumbled.

  Some hullaballoo about viruses!

  Clarence clicked off the TV in disgust. Then, forcing his stiff legs to stand back up, he shuffled over to his DVD collection. His daughter - what's her name - had bought Clarence a DVD player for Christmas along with a collection of his favorite old movies.

  Clarence couldn't read the titles anymore, so he just picked one. He groaned with the effort of leaning over to feed the DVD into the player. Then he shuffled on back to his comfy recliner and plopped back into it with a sigh of satisfaction.

  The movie turned out to be Abbott and Costello Meet the Mummy, which made Clarence very happy. He laughed at Abbott and Costello getting mixed up with Egyptian grave robbers while he slowly ate his gummy macaroni and cheese.

  About an hour into the movie, Clarence saw a parade of blue elephants march across the living room. They resembled old timey elephants, like the kind they would use in an old Disney cartoon.

  These sudden hallucinations had been happening to him a lot in the last few days. He would see things...weird things. They would just appear right in front of his eyes, without warning.

  Clarence blamed it on his poor eyesight and advancing age. Just one of those things.....he was probably tired, that's all. Plus he had a gosh-danged headache to beat the band!

  He had been getting some real doosies lately. He didn't dare tell....what the heck was her name? Fiona? Carol? about it, though, or she'd probably........what was he thinking about again?

  One of the blue elephants produced a trumpet and merrily tooted a cheerful tune. Clarence clapped his hands. It was a lovely show.

  "Bravo! Bravo!" his creaky voice cried out.

  He scratched a confounded skeeter bite on his ankle and fell asleep in his recliner with a smile on his face. He was later woken up by a horrible choking fit. Clarence forced his tired old body out of the recliner, and braced himself to tackle the stairs.

  The stairs were the main reason his daughter wanted him to move in with her family. His daughter and her family lived in a one-story ranch house.

  Clarence slowly made his way up the stairs, stopping at every step to gather up his strength. He looked up into the dark hallway at the top of the stairs and saw a blue elephant there, waiting for him.

  The elephant trumpeted, as if to say, "Hurry up old man!"

  "I'm coming!" Clarence told the elephant. "Be patient! Gosh darn elephants."

  His last hallucination had been a giant pink triangle with a cartoon face. The triangle kept threatening to sit on him. At least the elephants were more polite.

  It was interesting to Clarence's old brain that he could barely see two feet in front of him, yet his hallucinations came through clear as a bell, as though he had 20/20 eyesight.

  Of course, Clarence Barnaby had absolutely no clue that he was slowly descending into madness. He just accepted his odd visions as status quo...part of the aging process.

  Right now, his main objective was to get up the gosh-dang stairs so he could go to the bathroom and collapse into his nice warm bed with the thick plaid blanket of his boyhood.

  He used to take that blanket with him on camping trips, up in the Great Smoky Mountains....

  He finally completed the trek upstairs. The elephant was waiting in the bedroom, he could see.

  "Just a minute!" Clarence called out to the giant cartoon elephant. He ducked into the bathroom that had been cleaned today by that woman...who was she again?

  Wait...what was he thinking about?

  The light in the bathroom seemed way too bright for his poor old eyes.

  Clarence squinted his eyes in pain. Suddenly, something seemed very funny to the old man. The toothbrush in the green cup on the counter was dressed in a business suit!

  The old man giggled.

  "You got a job?" Clarence asked the toothbrush.

  "On Wall Street!" the toothbrush replied, smiling cheekily with it’s bristles.

  The toothbrush then produced a tiny briefcase.

  Clarence was impressed. He thought the toothbrush would make a fine....what did they do on Wall Street again?

  Clarence started laughing. The toothbrush suddenly sprouted legs and danced a jig inside of the green cup. Then the old man started coughing again.

  He couldn't do anything anymore, it seemed, without these gosh danged coughs taking over his entire body, making him feel like he was drowning.

  Fresh air. He needed fresh air.

  ”GET OUTTA MY WAY, YOU DUMB ELEPHANT!" the old man bellowed, as he stormed into the bedroom and made a B-line for the open window.

  Outside, the wind had picked up and the sky was darkening.
Clarence stuck his head out the window and hacked away. Then he saw some trees coming to life on the neighbor's lawn across the street, so he quickly pulled his head back into the room and saluted the blue elephant.