by Mac Flynn
"Thanks for the warning," I replied.
He nodded and walked out side. I opened the note. It turned out to be a letter.
Dear Misty,
I'm sorry we missed each other. My client won't be happy, but that wasn't the whole reason I came to see you. How does dinner night sound? My treat. If you can't make it give me a call. If you can, give me a call. Either way I get to hear from you.
Yours truly,
Owen Alston
I rolled my eyes and folded the paper into my pocket. That guy was persistent, and a little devious. Unfortunately, he didn't know my schedule. I had to work that night. Then again, I did have the next night available. Whatever I was going to decide could wait until after some food and a long, death-like sleep.
I slipped into my apartment and turned my nose up. Something was cooking, and that something was on the stove. It was Roland's pot of homemade stew. I glanced at the coffin table. The lid was shut, and outside the sun weakly shone on the world.
"Thanks," I whispered to him.
I walked over to the pot, took up the bowl, and ladled some soup into the container.
That's when a pair of black-covered arms reached around my front and grabbed me. They pinned my arms to my sides and pressed my back against a hard chest.
"Do not yell or I will be forced to hurt you," a deep, gravely voice hissed behind me.
"Who the hell are you? Get off me!" I shouted.
I flailed and kicked, and one of my heels made the acquaintance of one of his kneecaps. He grunted and his grip loosened. I managed to wiggle one arm out of his grasp and toss the bowl of soup over my shoulder. The guy screamed, and I spun around and found myself face-to-covered face with a masked figure in black. There was only eye holes and a bowl of soup on the cloth face mask. He furiously wiped at the hot food.
I jumped back and armed myself with a ladle of hot soup. The man opened his eyes and glared at me. I beckoned him with my hand.
"You want some more then grab a bowl and come and get it!" I challenged him.
He lunged at me, but I gave him seconds and tossed the ladle of soup. The hot projectiles arched across the air in front of me and slashed across his black sweater and pants. Steam rose from his clothes and the hot liquid soaked through in seconds. This stuff was almost as dangerous as Ralph's ten-alarm chili.
My surprise guest yelled and stumbled into the counter. He gave me one last glare full of love and turned tail. The guy ran into my bedroom. I grabbed a bowl, filled it, and, properly armed, ran after him into the room. The space turned out to be empty, but a cool breeze from an open window told me how he entered and escaped. I walked over to the window and leaned out. There wasn't any sign of the company.
"I guess this means you don't want dessert!" I called out.
I didn't expect a reply, and that's what I got. I shut the window and turned to my bedroom. Nothing looked touched. I inspected the rest of the apartment. Nothing was out of place. I even opened Roland's coffin. He held the box in his hands.
"Roland?" I whispered. I poked his cheek, but he didn't twitch. "Just like a vampire to be dead to the world when you need him."
I closed the coffin and wandered back into my bedroom. My appetite was gone, but not my head cold. That throbbed in my nose and eyes. I plopped down on my bed and closed my eyes.
CHAPTER 5
Bright light shone through my eyelids. I opened my eyes and blinked against the harsh sunlight. I sat up and looked around. My bedroom was gone, and in its place was a magical land of green grass and tall, perfect trees. Small bluebirds flew overhead chirping gaily, and little squirrels chattered and chased each other. In front of me was a perfectly round pond with a dock, and at the end of the dock was a white paddle boat. A small breeze blew over the otherwise perfectly blue water and stirred the grass around me.
I swallowed the bile rising in my mouth and stood. This was definitely a park, but not one I'd ever seen. Maybe imagined when I was a little girl into princesses and unicorns, but not for a while.
"Auntie!" a small voice yelled.
I turned around and saw a girl prance towards me. She wore a white dress and bonnet that covered most her face. Even when she looked directly at me I couldn't get a good idea of her features. Her hands were covered in white gloves and her feet in dainty white shoes. She reached me and grabbed my hand.
"You promised to take me for a ride!" she insisted.
"Take you for a ride?" I asked her. I had no idea who this girl was. Being an 'Auntie' was tricky to do when you were an only child.
She pointed at the paddle boat. "You said you'd be my partner and take me in that!"
"Yeah, I don't know about that," I told her.
She hung her head. "But you promised. . ." she whimpered.
I sighed and my shoulders slumped. "All right, but only for a little while."
"Yay!" She yanked me down the slope to the pond. Our feet pounded against the wooden planks and we stopped at the boat. The girl hesitated.
"What's wrong?" I asked my pushy guide.
She dropped my hand and turned her face away from the boat and me. "I'm. . .I'm scared."
I rolled my eyes. "It's just a boat. See?" I climbed into the far seat and looked at her. The girl looked from me to the empty seat. "Are you coming, or am I going to paddle around in circles?" I teased her.
She bit her lower lip and squirmed. "Are you sure it's safe?"
"Absolutely," I told her.
"And you really don't mind me being smaller?" she persisted.
"We'll work something out," I assured her.
She squirmed. "Momma said I can't go on unless you say it's okay. Can I come in?"
If this girl was my niece she needed a lesson in growing a pair. I pressed my feet against the foot pedals and the boat lurched forward half a foot. "I can't stop myself! The boat has me!"
The little girl stomped her feet and glared at me. "Stop that, Auntie! You have to let me on!"
I pedaled a few more times. The center of the boat slipped away from the dock. "It's going! I can't stop it!" I teased.
She stomped her foot on the dock. "Auntie! You have to let me in first! Auntie!"
"Misty?"
My eyes flew open and I found myself staring at Roland's pale face hovering over me. There was an annoying noise in the background.
"Did you know you had some really long nose-hairs?" I asked him.
"Are you feeling well?" he returned.
I shrugged. There was still that annoying noise in the background. "I'm okay, just a-" I frowned and clapped my hand over my neck. My fingers didn't feel any vampire access points. "Why?"
"Because you slept through your alarm," he explained.
That was the annoying background noise. I sat up and slammed my hand on the shut off button.
"I never sleep through my alarm. . ." I muttered to myself. I turned to Roland as he stood over me. "How long was that going?"
"Thirty minutes," he revealed.
"Thirty minutes. . .thirty minutes! I gotta get ready for work!" I yelped. "How did you let it ring for that long?" I asked him as I jumped up and gathered my uniform.
"I was out," he admitted. I didn't need a crystal ball to know that 'out' meant he'd been withdrawing from a blood donor.
Roland stepped out of the way as I barreled past him to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me, but he followed me there and rapped on the door.
"Aren't you bothered by your alarm not waking you?" he asked me.
"I think we've got a bigger problem than an alarm," I commented through the door. "Some guy came to dinner last night, and I don't think either of us invited him."
"Did you recognize him?" Roland inquired.
"His Hamburglar disguise kind of made that a little difficult," I quipped.
"Do you know what he wanted?" he persisted.
I flung open the door and stepped out fully dressed. "No, but I'm guessing it wasn't your soup." Roland followed me to the kitchen and I found the remnants of the soup were
heated on the stove. I poured myself a bowl and leaned my rear against the counter to sip on the soup. "All I know is the guy got in through my bedroom window and left the same way."
Roland frowned and turned away. "How strange."
"I'm pretty sure breaking and entering is more a felony than strange," I commented.
He shook his head. "No, that he didn't take my soul."
I paused with my spoon hovered close to my mouth. "Where was it?"
"Inside my coffin with me," he told me.
"Maybe he didn't have time to swipe it," I suggested. I glanced at the clock on my microwave. "And speaking of time, I've got to get going. Ralph's already warned me I'm climbing the list of his Most-Hated-People. I want to make sure I at least stay below honorable mention."
"Did you want me to fly you?" he offered.
I shook my head and tossed on my coat. "That'd be faster, but I think your heater's permanently broken. How about you stay here and be the welcoming wagon for our intruder if he comes back? Offer him some soup. He'll like that."
I hurried out the door and down to the lobby. One glance at the desk reminded me about Owen.
"Damn it. . ." I cursed. I pulled out my cellphone and noticed I had a missed call.
From Owen.
I listened to the message.
This is Owen. I'm sorry about the short notice, but something's come up. I'll have to reschedule our date tonight. Call you later. Bye.
I sighed and stuffed the phone back into my purse.
"This night just keeps getting better and better. . ." I murmured as I continued my rush to my car.
The speed limit signs were dutifully ignored and I reached the diner with five minutes to spare. I went into the kitchen and found Ralph in his usual chair by the swinging doors. He had a newspaper open in front of him.
"Slow night?" I guessed.
"Like a possum on the side of the road," he commented. He always did give the tastiest analogies.
I glanced at the front page of the paper. It had something about bright lights seen over one of the cities in the state. I shrugged it off, along with my coat, and went out front. Candy was just finishing up wiping some of the tables down. There were a few customers seated in scattered booths.
"How you feeling?" she asked me as I took my position behind the cash register.
"Better, but the war isn't over yet," I told her.
"Have fun tonight. It's been pretty quiet," she warned me.
"I could do with a little quiet," I returned.
Candy left, and the few customers in the diner followed her a few minutes later. I sat on the chair behind the counter and waited for the usual flow of truckers, but someone must have clogged the pipes. They didn't come around, but my cold did. I felt my temperature go up a couple of notches and my nose started dripping like a leaky faucet. The night air got heavy, and so did my eyelids. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. Nobody but Ralph would blame me for taking a rest.
I felt myself float off into a warm, comforting sleep. Until the zombie apocalypse came.
CHAPTER 6
My tranquil mood changed to terror when I opened my eyes and found myself in a rundown apartment building. My apartment building, but redecorated in early-Tim Burton. I stood in my hallway, or what remained of it. The windows were broken and most of the doors were kicked in. The paint on the walls peeled like hot tomatoes and the faded, filthy floor looked-well, that looked the same.
I heard a shrill scream from the stairs behind me and I glanced over my shoulder. A little girl sped up the stairs. Her face wasn't clear to me, but I could clearly see she was terrified. Close at her heels were a bunch of shuffling, mindless zombies. Their rotting flesh smelled worse than Ralph's liver-and-onion special, and their clothes hung in rags from their bodies. Their vacant faces were dominated by cruel, lifeless eyes. They were like bureaucrats, but not dressed as well.
The little girl ran up to me and buried her face into my waist.
"Please help me!" she screamed.
The zombies shuffled towards us. I looked around and noticed the door to my apartment was shut.
"Follow me!" I ordered her.
I grabbed the girl's cold, shivering hand and pulled her towards the door. The door was unlocked, so I pulled her inside, and slammed and locked the door behind us. The shuffling feet of undead created one hell of an electric current as they walked up to the door. They pound their fists weakly against the entrance.
The girl jumped back and shrieked. "We're going to die! We're going to die!" she yelled.
"Knock it off! We're not going to die!" I shouted. We were just going to join the ranks of the rotting undead. The permanent occupation probably had horrible medicals plans, and I didn't want to think about the dental.
"I don't wanna die!" the girl moaned.
"Let me think!" I told her. The zombies beat against the door, and I glared over my shoulder at them. "I said let me think!" I yelled at them. They moaned in response.
I glanced around the room. My new wooden coffee table was missing. In its place was the old one. There was also no sign of Roland.
"Where's a vampire when you need one?" I grumbled.
The zombies pounded louder on the door. I heard the hinges crack and bend against the onslaught. The girl backed away and pressed her arms against her chest. Her wide, unblinking eyes looked at the door and she shook her head.
"No. I don't want to die. Please don't let them get me!" The door gave way an inch and she raced around to the other side of the couch. "They're coming in!"
"Get to the bedroom!" I ordered her.
Her reaction was to do a stationary panic on the other side of the couch. Her legs resembled pistons in a car engine. They went up and down, but not the left and right she needed to perform. "They're coming in! They're coming in!"
I abandoned the breaking door and hurried over to her. She screamed and rushed around the couch out of my reach. We played musical couch for a few seconds with her just out of my reach.
"We have to get to the bedroom!" I shouted at her.
"We're gonna die!" was her brilliant response.
I decided to grant her her wish and I made for the bedroom alone. If she wanted to win that year's Darwin Award that was her choice. I slammed the door shut just as the one to the apartment broke open. The girl screamed and her tiny feet pounded across the floor to the bedroom door. She slammed into the entrance and clawed at the wood.
"Let me in! Please let me in!" she pleaded.
I pulled open the door and saw the girl standing on the threshold of the room. Behind her was the mass hoard of zombies, and for the first time I had time to see who had joined the ranks of the unwashed undead. Among them was a few familiar faces, namely Ralph, Candy, and Charlie. Ralph's grease-stained shirt looked better full of holes. Candy's vacant eyes finally fitted her. And Charlie-it was heart-breaking seeing him like that. His trucker pants were torn and his smile was gone. Then there was-Brady?
That wasn't right. Brady couldn't have been part of the undead, at least not anymore.
"Please let me in!" the little girl begged. The zombies were only a few feet behind her and closing fast.
I stepped aside so she had plenty of space to zip past me. "I'm not stopping you!"
She reached out her hand. "I can't move! My legs won't move!"
I reached out for her hand, but froze a few inches from her small, quivering fingers. Something wasn't right. She'd moved just fine around the couch, and now her feet were as useful as wooden sporks made of out poison oak?
I retracted my hand and glared at her. The fog over her face lifted a little, and I didn't like what I saw.
"What the hell are you doing in my dreams?" I snapped at the little girl, but now she wasn't the innocent Little Bo Peep type.
This little girl ate her sheep and invaded my dreams. She was a little monster by the name of Rose.
Rose glared at me. "Let me in!" she demanded.
I folded my arms and
watched the zombies shuffle up to her. They froze a foot behind her. Heck, everything froze except the two of us.
"The only place I'd let you into would be a sun room," I quipped.
She stomped her foot on the floor. "Let me in or I'm not letting you out of here!"
"I'm asleep, right? This is my dream, so I can leave whenever I want," I challenged her.
Rose grinned at me. "Really? Why don't you try to wake yourself up?"
"Fine. I will," I agreed.
I sidestepped so I faced the wall and slammed my head into the peeling wallpaper. My head slammed into the wall and rang like a church full of bells. I stumbled back and clutched my head, but I was still in my dream.
"See? You can't hurt yourself in here. The only way is for someone else to wake you up, and I'm the only other person here," she told me.
"Why's it so quiet out there?" a voice rang through the dreamland.
I started awake so bad that the chair rocked on its legs like a bucking bronco, and me without my ten-gallon hat. Its feet clacked loudly on the floor tiles.
"What's going on out there?" Ralph called again from the kitchen.
I righted myself and shook my head. My head cold reminded me of its presence with throbbing congestion. Ralph marched through the swinging doors and glared at me.
"What the hell are you doing?" he growled.
"Nothing," I told him.
He cracked a bony hand at the empty tables and counter. "Then yer not earning yer pay! Get to work scrubbing those tables until Ah can see my reflection in 'em!" he barked.
I didn't think we wanted to scare the customers that bad, but I was actually glad to have him ordering me around. The alternative was me stuck in that hellish dreamland that was ruled by a centuries-old vampire with a twelve-year-old's tantrum.
Ralph got back to his newspaper reading, and I stood and grabbed a washcloth, and my phone. I dialed my apartment's number and listened to each ring tone like it was a bell tolling my life away.
"Come on, you dumb vampire. Answer it," I prayed.
