by Garth Ono
Ka-boom!
"What the bloody hell?"
Did the smugglers have missiles or grenades? The police certainly didn't. She began running toward the firefight. She emerged from the forest and dropped to a knee. One sheriff's department squad car was blown up and burning. Kate spotted Deputy Rumpstead returning fire from across the street and behind a tree. Two more police cars were in the distance and approaching, lights and sirens filling the night.
The houseboat was backing out into the river. No telling how many zombie smugglers were escaping. Two of them jumped into a car and the deputy fired them up, but they drove away amid squealing wheels.
"There you are," she muttered, spotting a smuggler with a small grenade launcher. He was about twenty feet from her, moving toward her, but facing toward the deputy. He was about to kill Deputy Rumpstead. She attacked him. "Die!"
She brought the machete down as he turned to face her. The grenade launch fell to the ground as he wailed in horror and agony. The smuggler ran off into the dark holding the stump of his right arm. She snatched up the grenade launcher.
She didn't see any zombies or smugglers. There was another car crashed into a tree up the road a short ways. Gunfire erupted when the escaping car and incoming police cars closed. Kate turned back to the houseboat.
"Not on my watch," she muttered.
Kate ran down to the edge of the water, took aim, and fired. The grenade hit at about the middle and blew a big hole in the roof. The houseboat shuddered, but continued on. All she could do was watch it leave.
"Are you all right, Kate?" Deputy Rumpstead asked.
He looked shaken and nervous.
"I'm fine," she said. "But we have a lot of zombies on the loose now. It's going to be a long night."
Chapter 3
Kate drove up to the ramp. It was seven in the morning. The sky was clear and the sun bright on that summer morning. She spotted the U-haul truck, the burnt out husk of the police car, and the crashed sedan. There wasn't a single cop around or even police crime tape up.
"At least they picked up the bodies," she said.
Before getting out, Kate called the sheriff's office. Deputy Doge answered.
"Hey, Deputy Dawg," Kate drawled out in her best southern accent.
"Hello, Kate. How are you feeling his morning?"
She hesitated. He was actually talking to her. Randy grew up on her street, but was four years older. Kate had been crushing on him since she was ten. As children, he had no problem speaking to her. Until her body developed. Once the boobs swelled up, Randy shut up. He was clearly interested, but became shy around her.
"Just a little achy, and all scratched up from running through the woods half naked," she said, a wicked little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She heard his breath whoosh out, and it made her feel all tingly. "You know. Life as usual for me."
"I've noticed," he said, voice a good octave lower. "How, um, how can I help you?"
Kate hesitated with her mouth open. Some very naughty replies came to mind. But she was on a professional call, so had to keep it clean. It was important that the police always took her seriously. Her life sometimes depended on them.
"Is Sheriff Coleman available?"
"No, he left early this morning for a conference in Springfield. All of the state's sheriffs are meeting to discuss things, especially the zombie issue," Randy said. "He's not coming back until this weekend. Is there anything I can help you with?"
That was a loaded question. Kate continued to keep it professional, though it was hard. She asked about bounty payments. The sheriff gave her a voucher for $1100 she wanted to cash in, but only the sheriff could make the payments. So there wouldn't be any money coming in until Sheriff Coleman returned.
"I'm over at the Hank's Landing crime site, but there aren't any crime scene people here," she said. Kate looked around. "There's not even crime scene tape up."
"It was classified as a zombie case," the deputy said. He spoke cautiously, but didn't sound pleased. "So the case isn't going to be investigated further."
That didn't make sense. It was zombie smuggling, which was a Federal crime.
"Did you notify the Feds?"
"I didn't," Randy said. "The State Police took over the case. You'll have to call them to find out why they classified it as a simple zombie slaying."
She didn't have to call. Kate was fully aware of the reason. It was easier to sweep it under the rug and keep quiet if it was a simple zombie slaying. Also, less paperwork for the cops. Zombie slaying equaled no crime, no foul, no problem.
"That is wrong on so many levels," she said, shaking her head. "Did they at least retrieve all of the bodies still in the woods?"
"I don't know that, either," he said. "They sent us away pretty fast."
Kate looked around. Even from her truck she could see blood and gore. Finding bodies in the dark could be tough. That was the main reason she'd returned in the daylight. She was going to comb the woods for missed zombies and take their heads for the bounty. Until her arrival that morning, Kate didn't really hold out much hope of finding anything. Cops were pretty thorough.
I wonder if the state cops are on the take?
"So, it's okay if I poke around a little? There may be more zombies in the area."
That was true. A grand total of twenty-two heads were claimed the previous night. Kate was certain that number wasn't even half the total number of rotters brought over the river. She expected to be busy for the next week.
"I don't care," Randy said. "But, um, what are you doing Saturday night?"
Her heart skipped a beat. Was he asking her out on a date?
"What did you have in mind?"
"I was thinking we could get some dinner, and then hit Wild Willie's for some dancing."
Kate struggled to keep calm. She nodded, before realizing he couldn't see her. The young beauty bit her lip, and then smiled big.
"That sounds lovely," she purred. "It's a date."
Once the call ended, Kate got out and looked around. She took pictures of the license plates of both vehicles. There was an app she could buy that would run them for her and tell her the owner, address, and to see if there were outstanding tickets. The back of the U-haul was empty.
Kate swept the woods south of the ramp first. She didn't find any zombies, undead or dead. She checked all of the way to Johnny's house just to be sure. Then she checked the woods north of the ramp. She located two headless bodies. And the suitcase full of money.
She took the suitcase back to her truck. Placing it in back, Kate opened it.
"That's life changing money," she whispered. What were the chances the police would let her keep it? Not likely, but she did find it. Sort of. And the smugglers would never try to claim it. "I can always ask."
After dragging the corpses to the road, she took pictures, got the GPS coordinates, and e-mailed it to the County Coroner's office. Their retrieval team would pick them up.
Kate drove back to Tennyson. There was a bulldozer cleaning up the remnants of the Frasier Mansion. She frowned. That was the most gorgeous old Victorian Kate had ever seen, and she was the one to blow it up. The slayer wasn't sure killing a vampire was worth the loss.
Worse, the elderly owners were killed by the vampire. By all accounts Mr. and Mrs. Frasier were good people. They were the town's biggest philanthropists, as well as owning most of the county. They had grown children, but they left most of their fortune to their only grandchild. Word was he was in town.
Kate hoped she never ran into him. That would be super uncomfortable.
It was early morning when she returned to Tennyson, but downtown was busy. All of the shops and businesses were open. She slowly cruised up Main Street and stopped in front of the sheriff's small temporary office. They were working on a new facility for him in City Hall's basement, complete with jail cells and everything.
Sheriff Coleman's downtown office was a Post Zombie Apocalypse office. The State of Illinois increased t
he number of sheriffs to deal with the zombie problem. Most of them were in small towns on the western side of the state, along the Mississippi River. It was taking them a while to build proper facilities for them all.
The sheriff's small office was locked up when she arrived. Since she couldn't turn in the two heads, Kate headed home. Her eyes were constantly moving, looking for zombies. It didn't take long to drive across town and reach home.
Her landlord, Mr. Rose was out mowing the lawn. It was a large yard, so he had a riding lawnmower. She waved as she drove up the driveway. Kate watched him in her rearview, holding her breath until she could confirm he continued mowing. Too often he accosted her to complain about some nitpicky thing or another. Though, he hadn't been so bad since her friends Shea and Victoria gave him some attention a few weeks back.
Of course, he turned onto the driveway behind her and followed.
"Lovely," she whispered.
Home was a one-bedroom, one bath carriage house apartment. The young woman loved her apartment. She had two garage bays, and more than enough room upstairs. She had free use of the pool, too. Her elderly landlord never complained about Kate and her friends sunbathing in bikinis by that pool. Maybe it was time to invite them over again.
"Good morning, Mr. Rose," Kate said. She stood by the Defender and waited for him. He looked in her back window. "No heads or bodies, sir. Just like you said."
The heads in back were cunningly concealed under a blanket. She had to stay on her toes to stay one step ahead of him.
"Hmm," he said, frowning at her. His eyes ran up and down her body two times too many. "No blood splatters. Are you getting any business to pay the rent? Last month's rent was almost late."
For once Kate actually had her rent money in the bank. The last month had proven unusually profitable. She had rent money for the rest of the year, in fact. The question was whether or not he'd let her stay that long. There was no doubt in her mind her landlord would eventually find a reason to evict her.
"Yes, I did rather well last night," she said. That didn't seem to please him. She had the impression he was about to say something she didn't want to hear. So she preempted him. "By the way, do you mind if I invite some girlfriends over this weekend to sunbath and enjoy the pool?"
His eyes dropped to her chest. She might have an athletic body, but she had no reason to be ashamed, either. Mr. Rose's eyes glazed over as he stared. Then he looked briefly at her lips, before averting his eyes.
"Of course. That's fine by me," he said. "But I was wondering – "
Kate's phone rang.
"Hold that thought, please," she said. The number was unknown. "Got Zombies? Kate Brokenshire speaking. How may I help you?"
"Kate, this is Eddy Stanford. There's a big, naked walker pounding on my front door," the caller said.
Eddy Stanford lived on her parent's street. He was a teacher and worked with her parents at the local high school. She had known him most of her life.
"I'll be there in just a minute, Mr. Stanford," she said, turning back to the driver's door. Then to her landlord, "I have to go, sir. Bye-bye."
Kate looked in her rearview to see his riding lawnmower blocking the way. Mr. Rose hurried over to get it out of the way, but it wouldn't start. A shotgun shot rang out from the direction of the Stanford house. She cried out in frustration. Kate had to bail. She hurried around back, pulled out her machete, and then locked up.
"Can't wait," she cried, running for all she was worth with machete in hand.
The Stanford house was just four blocks away. Another shotgun shot rang out as she ran. Kate was winded when she reached the house, and had several dogs chasing her, but the zombie was still there. He'd moved from the door to the large bay window, which he'd smashed through.
"Hey, zombie, zombie, zombie!" Kate shouted. "Come to Mummy! Come on, my little rotter."
He turned toward her. Kate's jaw dropped and she stared. Naked didn't begin to describe him. He was a big one. The zombie was black, easily six four or six five, with most of his face missing, and naked as the day he was born. Undressed zombies weren't unheard of, but always freaky when encountered. And that rotter was especially well hung, too.
"Oh my."
She figured one of the shotgun shots took away his face. She could see the hole in his chest the second shot made. Mr. Stanford didn't do more than knock the monster down and buy some time.
"I'll take it from here, sir," she called. He nodded and lowered his weapon. "Hey, zombie, zombie, zombie, come to me."
The rotter lurched toward her. He had a bad limp. One hip was pretty mangled, too. She wondered exactly where the teacher shot him. She only heard two shots. And then the zombie rushed her.
"Yikes," she cried, ducking as she juked right. The zombie took the bait and turned the wrong way. "Sucker."
Her sharp machete sliced through the tendons on the back of his good leg's knee. He dropped to both knees before her. Kate tried to move behind him, but the zombie was fast. He kept her to his front at all times.
"I guess we'll do this the hard way," Kate whispered. She feigned right, and then stepped in close as she lifted the machete high. "Hai!"
The slayer brought the blade straight down on his head. That head split open like a cantaloupe. As frightening and horrific as that assault was, it was not mortal for the undead monster. What it did was stun him. His arms dropped, giving her an unobstructed swing.
"Gotcha!" she cried as her machete decapitated him, sending the cleaved head in two different directions. "So disgusting."
Chapter 4
Over at Hank's Landing, a ski boat slowly approached shore. Maxwell Carter stood behind the driver as he studied the scene. It was as bad of a crime scene as he'd seen in the last year. The stolen U-haul was still there, disabled by gunshots to the radiator. Lots of bloody spots on the pavement where zombies were killed.
The truck and crashed car didn't bother him so much. They were the Zombie Mafia's vehicles. Unfortunately, since the vehicles were still there it proved that his clients didn't receive their fifty zombies. He didn't get his $50,000 in cash, either, but the boys from Chicago accused him of taking the money and not giving them any undead bodies. If he didn't get them fifty zombies quickly, and half the money back, bad things would happen.
At the very least, that bitch cost him twenty-five grand.
"Spread out. Find the money," Max said.
There were ten men in the boat. Two of them were wounded from the previous night's cluster fuck. Everyone pulled pistols and jumped out to wade onto shore. One of his men pulled the boat up onto shore and tied it off. Max jumped down to dry earth.
His dark eyes narrowed as he looked around and remembered the scene from the previous night. Everything was going well until that woman showed up. At first he thought she was a cop. She identified herself as such. He wasn't so certain anymore. Yet, she was armed.
He didn't get a good look at her. It was dark, lit only by headlights. She was a darting figure, armed with a machete. That made him think she knew they were smuggling zombies. Why else bring a machete?
His men combed the woods. They checked inside the truck and car. Nothing. Max didn't really expect them to find anything. He remembered the woman picking up the suitcase of money and running into the forest to the north.
Why was she there? Dumb luck, or did someone tip her off? he thought. She went straight for the money. She robbed us.
His source within the State Police swore there was no suitcase found. No money found. So the woman took it.
Max's hands curled into fists.
"Carl. Take Mike and go into Tennyson. Find out all you can about last night," Max said. "Find out the name of the woman who robbed us. I want her. That bitch is going to pay for what she did last night."
Chapter 5
A wicked little smile tugged on the corners of Daphne's blood red lips. She was performing a sassy little strut up Main Street. The young woman purposely parked a block away from the agency j
ust so she could display the new Daphne to the town.
"Wait till they get a load of me," Daphne purred. "Uncle Zach's going to freak."
She worked for her father's younger brother, who owned the town's insurance agency. Her uncle and all of his employees were very conservative, good Christian folks. Daphne wasn't sure what they'd say or do when she strolled in with fluorescent purple hair, heavy Goth makeup, and dressed in all black and purple. Her outfit was very dark, very sexy. She wore a tight, black lace dress with a black leather cincher accentuating her figure. Fingerless, fishnet gloves sheathed her arms almost to her armpits, with matching black fishnets on her legs, above the black and purple thigh boots.
Daphne rather looked forward to shocking those self-righteous buffoons. Everyone treated her with kid gloves since the vampire claimed her, turning her into his minion and bedroom plaything with a single bite. They thought she was tainted, and definitely her poor soul. One of them suggested she seek an exorcism.
"I'll possess their asses," she muttered. "Exorcism or not, I'll still turn into a vamp when I die."
Intellectually, Daphne understood their concerns and knew she was contributing to them. Alexander's bite did more than turn her into his obedient minion. It altered her view of the world. She didn't even think of herself the same way. Daphne was a changed woman, and probably not for the better. And it got harder to hide those changes every day.
Daphne no longer felt the need to hide what she was or what she felt.
She slowed when two strangers approached, walking in the opposite direction. They were looking her over with interest. She could see the lust in their eyes. It made her feel all tingly.
"Heeey," she purred, and then gave them a sultry lip bite. "I'm Daphne."
The two men stopped in their tracks and stared at her. Actually, they mostly stared at her rather generously displayed cleavage. They weren't so bad on the eyes, either. Both men were over six feet, broad-shouldered, and had long, dark hair. They wore faded jeans and snug t-shirts to show off their muscles.
