by TW Brown
“Zombies?” I tried not to sound like I thought she was full of it, but I’m not sure how well I managed to hide my skepticism. “Like Dawn of the Dead zombies, or like Serpent and the Rainbow zombies?”
I was so proud of myself. I was never into the whole scary movie kick when I was human. Honestly, I was a giant scairdy cat. Those sorts of things gave me nightmares. Now, heck, I’d done battle with an honest-to-goodness vampire. I’d spoken to a few ghosts, and I live with a teenage girl. Movie monsters had nothing on my reality. Since Morgan had let it slip that a lot of what most people would consider popular fiction had some basis in reality, I decided that I would do some homework. Turns out Lisa was a big fan of the stuff. So I let her pick the selections for movie night.
“We aren’t sure yet,” Morgan said with all seriousness.
“Wait! What?”
“There has only been one report and it was made by a witch that has a propensity for sipping a bit too much hemlock tea.”
I was pretty sure that hemlock was some type of poison, but I could worry about that later. Morgan was talking about zombies. Worse, when I asked what type, her answer leads me to believe that there is more than one type of zombie! That tops poison drinking witches in my book.
“So what am I supposed to do? Do I go out there with a shotgun and blow their brains out?” I said with as much of a laugh as I could muster.
“I imagine that would be one way to deal with the situation,” Morgan said with her usual lack of emotion.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am absolutely serious. Do I strike you as somebody who jokes?”
I tried to imagine Morgan even smiling and it gave me a bit of a chill. It would probably be like a shark’s smile…the last thing you ever saw before you became a snack. There was something about this woman that was just the most pure form of scary. And she was a tiny little thing. And then it dawned on me who she reminded me of: Carol Kane in that Bill Murray movie, Scrooged. She was that ghost or fairy, or whatever the heck she was supposed to be. But when she hit Bill Murray with that toaster, I laughed so hard I think I peed my pants just a little bit. She even had a voice very similar to Ms. Kane. Of course I would never tell her that. The only reason that I am sharing it with you here is because I know that she will never stoop to reading any of my books.
“So what in the world would zombies be doing here? And what am I supposed to do if I find one?”
“If I had all of these answers, do you think that I would be here asking you to investigate? That is what you are going to be paid for, Ava.”
“So am I supposed to just investigate, or am I supposed to kill something?”
“I imagine that will be determined once you go check things out,” Morgan said with a sigh as she unreclined (is that even a word?) from the recliner and stood up. “Perhaps I have overestimated your abilities. Maybe I should find somebody else.”
I thought about that last seven figure paycheck. Considering the fact that I had worked as a waitress, and a good night was when I walked out with a hundred bucks, I decided that I wouldn’t have a problem taking a drive out to Estacada to look for zombies. My only concern was Lisa.
“You might want to leave your pet human at home,” Morgan said.
I know she told me that she isn’t a fortune teller or a mind reader, but that was just too spooky. I think she had a good point, though. If these were the Dawn of the Dead-type of zombie, I would feel just terrible if Lisa got bit and turned into one of those things. Of course that brought me to another question.
“How come this isn’t ending up on the news? If there are zombies, wouldn’t that be something that the humans would want to report?”
Morgan was silent for a moment. I think that worried me more than anything else. She was keeping something from me and I didn’t like it one bit.
“Somebody is keeping the zombies under control for now,” Morgan finally said.
Now I was even more confused. There was so much wrong with that sentence that I had no idea where to start. I decided to just wade in—not that I expected much in the way of answers.
“Somebody?”
Morgan’s face actually seemed to melt into something resembling an emotion for just a split second. At least I think so. It might have been a trick of the shadows or something, but I was almost positive that I saw one eyebrow knit ever so slightly.
“There may be a person behind this,” Morgan admitted.
“So if it is a person…” My mind tried to make what I considered to be a logical jump. “Then it must be some sort of voodoo thing, right?”
I had to consider that voodoo was real. After all, just scroll back a bit to that whole part where I mentioned meeting vampires and ghosts. Oh yeah, and the part about me being a ghoul. So if those things were real, then why not voodoo?
“Not necessarily,” Morgan said with a slight movement of her head that may have been a shake in the general direction of “no.”
“But if somebody is in control…” I heard that sound in my voice that was dangerously close to a whine. This was not going to get me any answers. I took a second and regrouped. Maybe if I tackled something else.
“You said something about ‘for now’ when you said that these zombies are under control.”
“Bravo for catching on,” Morgan said. The only problem was that I was not sure if she was being sarcastic or not.
“Does that mean this might be some sort of beginning of one of those zombie apocalypse thingamajigs that everybody seems so excited to read about?”
Personally, I didn’t get the whole infatuation with that genre. Anybody with half a brain would know that a zombie apocalypse would eventually mean that there would be no more anything! Things like hot showers and stuff would be gone. It would be like the camping trip that never ended. I don’t know about you, but I like to maintain a certain degree of personal hygiene. Soaps would stop being made…and that would be the least of our problems. You think you have trouble with feminine itching…or the lack of “feeling fresh” now? Try living without the local drug store or supermarket.
And for you men…I wouldn’t start feeling so smug just yet. There are certain things that a woman may or may not do in these modern times regarding “your little soldier” that I can promise would come to an immediate halt when you stop being able to keep that area clean.
I knew this one guy, and he was just so dreamy; broad chest, dazzling smile, and strong swimmer’s legs that were attached to buns that you could bounce a dime off. We met one night in a little club downtown and I swear that he was so well-groomed that I was certain he had to be gay. When he whispered in my ear that he would like to buy me a drink, I had to go check my make-up.
I am a very busty gal with my 38DDs, and I play to my strengths. I also have Elvira-black hair that comes to my waist. If I get a bit too carried away with the make-up, apparently some people have suspected me of being a drag queen. Now I don’t want to get into the whole thing about whether or not that is a bad thing. Let’s just say that when that revelation was made to me a few years back, I learned to tone down the face paint.
Anyways, we get back to my place and he is one of those guys who likes to do a little bit of taste-testing before he gets down to business. Yay for me! is what I was thinking. Me being the kind of gal who is into reciprocity, I went to return the favor. I got to his naval when I noticed what I first believed to be just a case of bad feet. I was prepared to overlook that…until I got to the actual source of that sweaty stench.
So, fellas, if you think that whole zombie apocalypse thing is gonna just-freakin’-rock, let me tell you that there are some major downsides.
“…would take a lot more than that.” Crap, Morgan had been saying something important. I knew that she was going to be annoyed, but I didn’t have much to lose since she already thought I was an idiot.
“Excuse me?” I tried to make it sound like I wanted her to elaborate. She is far too smart for that.
&n
bsp; “I should have known when you had that vapid look in your eyes that you were off on some sort of mental picnic,” Morgan said. The thing is, she said it with as close to no emotion as possible. It was like my Speak-and-Spell using a female voice.
“Sorry, just trying to wrap my mind around how bad a zombie apocalypse would be.”
“So you didn’t hear a single word that I said.” I couldn’t swear to it, but it almost sounded like Morgan was annoyed.
“Okay, I’m listening.” I even cupped my hands to my ears for effect.
“I said that all those books and movies are preposterous. Do you really think that one person infected with some sort of zombie virus could cause a chain reaction that would wipe out the world? It would take something a great deal more widespread.”
Morgan headed for the door and started downstairs. I guess she was leaving. I followed her down and even edged around her to open the door. I doubted that it would raise my standing in her eyes, but perhaps a little politeness would gain me a little something.
“I want to repeat,” Morgan turned and stood in my doorway, “that I believe it would be a very bad idea to take your little human pet with you on this assignment.”
“She’d not a—” I began to protest, but she was gone. I could say that she vanished in the blink of an eye…but I hadn’t blinked.
“What assignment?”
I jumped. If my heart still beat, it would have been pounding like a Rikki Rockett drum solo. Instead, my fingernails and toenails went switchblade. Lisa took a step back and had the decency to look apologetic. How had she snuck up on me? Hmm.
“Morgan just came by with a job.” I shut the door and headed upstairs to my room. It would be daylight soon, I could feel it. “She thinks I can handle it by myself and didn’t want you getting involved.” I guess that was at least part of the truth. I wasn’t all that sure that Morgan believed that I could handle anything by myself.
“What is the job?” Lisa moved past me into my room and plopped down on my bed. I could tell by the look on her face that she wasn’t buying any of what I was selling.
“Just something up in Estacada. I will head there tonight and be back before morning most likely.”
“So is it werewolves?” Lisa said that with way too much enthusiasm. I guess this was all just a big adventure to her. She still was not really in tune with the whole “we are monsters” part of things. If she knew how close she’d come to being a late-night snack to Belinda back when we first started hanging out together…perhaps she would be a little more concerned with her own safety.
“No.” I closed my bedroom door. A little bit of dim gray light was starting to spill across the floor of my hallway.
“Then maybe you can let me know what it is, and I can decide if it is too dangerous for me or not.” Lisa folded her arms across her chest and cocked one hip. That was teenage girl body language for ‘I ain’t budging until you talk.’
“Zombies,” I said.
Seriously, what could it hurt? In fact, we’d watched a bunch of those movies. Even went to some author’s book signing. Marvin, or Mark, or Mel Tufo…something like that—he had some series that she was just crazy about. She got home that night and wrapped the book in plastic like it was a priceless artifact. I was certain that when I told her it might be zombies that she would see the logic in sitting this one out. After all, I am a ghoul. I was pretty sure I am off the menu.
I could not have been more wrong.
DEAD returns for the finale
October 30, 2015
DEAD: End
But turn the page for a sneak preview of
DEAD: Snapshot—Portland, Oregon
DEAD: Snapshot—Portland, Oregon
Ken ducked instinctively and felt something swish through the air where his head had been just a second ago. Kicking backwards, his foot struck something solid and was greeted with a loud “oof”.
Turning, he saw the punks from inside the store. The one that had reached him first was already doubled over, but he had no chance to defend against the next and took a booted foot to the shoulder. He slammed into the rear of the truck and ended up down on his knees. He could hear the dog barking from the cab of the truck.
“Get him!” Jinks yelled, obviously not the one to lead the charge.
Ken saw the boot coming and moved his head just enough to take little more than a grazing blow to the cheek. His hand was going for his gun as the rest of his attackers arrived. He rolled under the rear of his truck, pulling himself into the fetal position in order to do so.
A set of legs appeared just past the rear tires and Ken brought his gun around. He fired and winced at the loud report. A body fell, the person clutching their wounded leg and rolling back and forth. If not for the ringing in his ears, he would have heard the wail of pain.
Looking to the rear of the truck where the attack had begun, he spied the person that he’d kicked as he or she struggled to reach their feet. Lining up his next shot, he fired again; the person flopped backwards and was still. Scuttling back just a little further, he saw another set of legs. The owner had obviously decided to give up on the attack and was turning to leave. Once more Ken fired. He saw the body sprawl in a pool of blue radiance from one of the parking lot lights.
Waiting a second to ensure there were no other attackers, Ken slowly emerged from under the pickup. His hearing was still hampered, but he heard the cries of the person he’d shot in the leg. He walked over and looked down to discover the young lady with the crewcut.
“P-p-please don’t shoot me!” she wailed, holding up her hands.
Ken looked around to see if anybody might be paying any attention. When he realized that nobody was coming to investigate, he leaned down to the girl and examined her more closely. She was filthy and smelled like it had been a good long while since she’d had a shower.
“I’m not going to shoot you…again,” he added that last word as he tucked his gun back in his belt.
He saw the other two that he’d shot lying where they’d fallen. He also saw a few figures moving with that slow, awkward walk in his general direction. Reaching down, he scooped the girl up. She yelped and struggled weakly in his grasp.
“Shut up, I’m not going to hurt you. You need to see a doctor,” he hissed.
“Just let me go!” she insisted.
Ken looked back at the advancing figures. Turning slightly, he pointed them out. “You want me to leave you to them?”
She seemed to consider her choices and then leaned into his side. He walked her to the front of the truck and opened the door. He cast a look of longing over his shoulder. There was still so much inside the store that he could use, but he needed to check on his mother and get this girl some help. He knew that Legacy Hospital was not too far away. He could drop the girl off at the emergency entrance and then head to his mother’s.
Moving around the car, he heard a scream and, as he unlocked his door, he saw three figures falling on the prone body of one of his attackers. He actually felt sorry for the person. He’d heard that scream from Gina Glendon and could only imagine what was happening to whichever of the male attackers he’d shot.
Climbing into the cab, he was instantly met by the snuffling face of the retriever. He eased in and nudged the dog back into the extended part of the cab behind the front seats. The scream rose in pitch and then went silent in an instant.
“What was that?” the girl asked, sounding for the first time like a frightened young lady.
“Something bad,” was Ken’s reply as he started the truck and headed for the exit. “Now buckle up. I am taking you to the hospital.”
***
Rose backed away. Frank stood, his insides spilling from a rip in his belly. Before she could take another step, Rose heaved, the contents of her stomach making a splash on the hardwood floor of her living room.
Her mind struggled to process what she was seeing, but nothing made any sense. As she fought to get her mind to wrap around what was happ
ening, the two men began to draw closer. Standing in the entry hall, the sounds of frantic barking came from her bedroom where Imp and Circe were shut away.
The two figures, Frank and the neighbor, took step after agonizing step towards her. As the intensity of the barking increased, Frank’s head turned in a jerky movement that was almost inhuman in the way it twitched; very nearly like that of a bird. Rose could not allow them to head down the hallway to her bedroom. She had no idea if they could open a door or not, but she needed to get these two men out of her house.
“Hey!” Rose yelled. Frank’s head came back around and he started towards her once again.
Rose backed to the front door, reaching behind her to open it. She had to actually step closer to the advancing monstrosities for just a second as she pulled her door open. At last she was able to slip around it as the neighbor’s hand swiped at her and missed by just a few inches.
Stepping outside, Rose backed down her stairs and looked around. The entire neighborhood was strangely quiet. It was only late afternoon, and not even children could be seen playing outside or walking down the street. It was as if she were the only person actually at home.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Rose backed down the path once the neighbor and Frank both exited her house. The neighbor reached the first stair and stumbled, landing with a sickening crack as he struck the concrete and tumbled down the three stairs. Frank did not seem to notice and followed in the neighbor’s footsteps. The only thing that was different was that Frank landed on the neighbor who was struggling to try and roll over.
As the two men became disentangled, and the neighbor crawled free, Rose noticed that the man’s arm now had an obscene break in the forearm. Bone jutted through skin, but he took no notice and actually tried to use the arm as he struggled to his feet. Rose had to battle with her rising gorge as she saw the broken forearm bend at the midpoint and then snap in half. The arm was, at this point, totally useless, as the lower half of the forearm was now barely connected by skin and ruined muscle.
