Adventures of Zombie Larry

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Adventures of Zombie Larry Page 3

by Michele Bardsley


  “I have to find my daughters.”

  “No problem,” said Jenny. “I’ve been Googling all the over the place.” She pulled out a small laptop.

  Larry understood that technology had made many leaps since his demise. He’d seen enough computers on his ramblings to know what they were—even if he wasn’t sure how they worked. Curious, he watched Jenny flip open the machine and start tapping on the keys.

  “Their names are Beatrice Alice and Catherine Laverna, right?”

  “Yes,” said Larry. “How’d you know?”

  “Tamara and I looked up their school records.” Tap, tap, tap. “You filed a missing persons report a couple hours before you disappeared.”

  “Did they… were they…” He swallowed the knot his in throat. “Found?”

  “You mean dead?” She looked at him, sympathy in her gaze. “Not here. But…” She turned the laptop around and showed him the screen. “Adoption records for Beatrice Alice and Catherine Laverna, both with the last name of Stotten. They grew up in Tulsa, and still live there. They got married, had kids, and grandkids.”

  “Adopted?” Bea had been six, and Cathy eight. Now his own children were older than he was. He’d been returned to the age he’d died, which made him thirty-two.

  Jenny shrugged. “There’s nothing about them being found in town. Or how they ended up getting adopted.”

  Had Lila’s brother kidnapped them, and then somehow grown a conscious, allowing them to return to Tulsa to be adopted? His stomach squeezed. Had Ean adopted them?

  “Who raised my girls?”

  “Leticia and Ernest Mortimer,” said Jenny.

  Larry frowned. He’d never heard of them.

  “Is it really important to know how they got there?” asked Jenny. “You wanted to know what happened to ’em, and now you do. Bea’s an accountant and Cathy’s a doctor.”

  Larry looked away, his eyes hot with tears. His daughters were alive, and apparently doing well. And what could he do? Show up and say, “Hey, I’m your dead father?”

  “I’d like to see them,” he said. He just needed to make sure they were okay. “Can you find out about Ean Whittaker?”

  Jenny nodded. While she worked, he ate one of the energy bars. It wasn’t too bad, but the chocolate bar was much better. He’d forgotten how great food could taste.

  “Dead.”

  Larry blinked. “What?”

  Once again, she turned the computer around and handed it to Larry. On the screen was an article from the Tulsa Tribune. It was dated the same day he’d died.

  Three men and two little girls had been in a car accident. Apparently the car had stalled on a train track and been broadsided. Only the girls had escaped unscathed.

  “My daughters lived,” said Larry as he returned the laptop. “And Ean and his goons died.”

  Maybe Lila had made a wish, after all. It would be just like her to plan ahead like that, and very much like her to give up her own life for their girls. He felt oddly at ends. The driving force behind his re-animation, and his own wish to live again, seemed to be moot.

  “What now?” asked Jenny.

  “I don’t know.” He unwrapped another chocolate bar. “I’ll go to Tulsa and see the girls, and then… well, I guess I could live in Broken Heart.”

  “Your house is kinda falling down,” said Jenny. She chewed on her bottom lip. “They’re gonna want to test you and stuff.”

  “Who?”

  “Doctor Stan.”

  Larry shrugged. “That’s okay. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  “I won’t let them hurt you.”

  He reached over and chucked her under the chin. “You’re a good kid, Jenny.”

  “What-ev-er.” She rolled her eyes, but he could see that she was pleased by his compliment.

  “I guess we don’t have to hide out then,” said Jenny. “I can take you home. Mom and Dad will help you.”

  “Okay,” said Larry. He was still the guardian of the gem’s power even though he couldn’t wield it. He’d used his wish. But maybe it could be used to help Broken Heart and the people who lived here.

  “C’mon,” said Jenny. She shut the laptop and shoved it into a backpack. Then she grabbed one of the lanterns. “If I’m not back for breakfast, Mom’ll flip her sh—er, stuff.”

  “Flip her stuff?”

  “Yeah,” she said, blushing. “It’s one of the crazy things us teens say.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She scurried to the hole and made her way down the trunk. Then Larry followed, a little more sure-footed this time.

  Jenny waited for him, and then turned to make her way through the woods toward her house on Sanderson Street. Larry paused and looked up into the night sky. In his pocket, the wishing stone pulsed warmly, just like a heartbeat.

  Just like a second chance.

  Bonus Stories About The Magic Gem!

  DEAD YOU HEAR THAT?

  “Where the hell is that damned box?” I paused and looked over my shoulder. I don’t know why I bothered. We were in the attic of the house on Sanderson Street, which was where I’d lived with my kids while I was alive, and for a little while as a vampire. It’s a long story. Anyway, my family and I had moved back into the house after vacating the Silverstone mansion. I wasn’t too sorry about leaving there—it was huge, dusty, and a bitch to clean. Also, I got a lost. A lot.

  “She’s not here, Jessica,” said my husband. My sexy Irish vampire bent over a trunk and dug through the contents. “And quit lookin’ at my ass.”

  “I wasn’t,” I protested, moving my gaze away from his butt. (P.S. Fantastic view, peeps. Better naked, but hey, I’ll take it where I can get it.) As for the “she” Patrick was talking about—that was my daughter, Jenny aka She Who Rules the Bad Words. My inability to stop cursing had put enough money in the Cussing Jar to pay for a Wii. Needless to say, I was paranoid. Jenny popped up out of nowhere with that damned jar. I think she’s saving up for a PlayStation 3. Or college.

  Patrick straightened. Cobwebs clung to his longish black hair. He plucked them out and sighed. “You know we’re rich, right? Wealthy beyond measure. I could buy you new decorations. I could buy you an entire factory that made decorations.”

  “But these are family decorations,” I whined. “Stuff the kids made. Like that Frankenstein Bryan made from a coffee can… and that pumpkin candle thingie that Jenny painted in 2nd grade.”

  “I can buy you new children.”

  “Patrick!”

  He grinned; and lust zipped through me as hot and quick as lightning. He knew it, too, because his smile went all sexy. “Screamin’ is traditional on Halloween, isn’t it?”

  “It’s not Halloween.”

  “I still want to explore the screamin’ issue. We should practice, I think.”

  Patrick tended to blur my good judgment—well, what little I actually had. It’s not like I’d ever get a medal for good decision making. Still, I felt like I should at least try to accomplish the mission that had brought us to the attic.

  “The sooner we find the decorations,” I said, being all practical and responsible, “the sooner we can get to that screaming thing.”

  Patrick drew me into his arms and kissed me until I couldn’t feel my toes. Then he stepped back and looked down at me, tender desire illuminating his silver gaze. “As you wish.”

  “Don’t even try, Sucky McSuckpants.”

  He laughed. Then he let go of me and headed toward the opposite corner. I followed him to another towering pile of boxes, none of which I’d bothered to label. We each took a box. I found baby clothes; Patrick found Christmas lights.

  The last box held the treasures I was looking for. Most of the items had been created by either Jenny or Bryan. When Rich, Jr. got older, I imagined he’d make a few things to add to my trove. He was my adopted son (part of that long story I mentioned earlier) and I loved him to the bottom of my undead heart.

  Something glittered among the stick-figure witches a
nd the orange and black paper chains. I plucked it and held it up to the wavering yellow light that barely cut into the dark attic. Not that Patrick and I needed too much light. Our vamp vision was awesome.

  The gemstone was orange and about the size of a kiwi. I’d never seen it before and I wondered how it had gotten into the box of Halloween goodies.

  “Let me see it, love.”

  I handed it to Patrick and he spent a quiet minute studying it. “There’s magic here,” he said.

  “Uh-oh. The good kind, or the bad kind?”

  “I don’t know. It’s too faint to tell.”

  “Well, let’s give it to someone who can figure out what it is.”

  “Dr. Michaels then.” Patrick stood and picked up the box of decorations. Because he was part Sidhe, he could fly, so he lowered himself through the attic trapdoor easily. I could do the same trick, but I choose to use the ladder.

  When we got to the kitchen, Patrick put the box on the table. We’d wait until the kids got home from school to go through the stuff. Rich, Jr. was hanging out with his grandpa, and I was only slightly worried Ruadan was somewhere doing something he shouldn’t.

  Patrick took out the gem and examined it again. “It looks kinda familiar.” He handed it to me and pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. “I’m goin’ to call Stan and hand it over to him. Maybe he can figure out what it is.”

  How had something magical ended up in my attic in a bunch of Halloween decorations? I’d never seen it before. Had one of the kids found it last year and just thrown into the box thinking it was Halloween-y?

  Patrick finished his phone call. “Dr. Michaels will pick it up later.”

  “You know what I wish I had?” I asked, rubbing the gem. It was feeling a little hot. I didn’t have a pulse, much less a temperature, so it wasn’t me generating the heat.

  “Chocolate?”

  “Why do you always assume that’s my wish?”

  “Because it always is.”

  “This time it’s something different.”

  Patrick looked at me, a smile flirting on his lips.

  “I want those Godiva pecan pie truffles.” I grinned. “In bed. With you.”

  He laughed and wrapped is arms around me. He leaned down for a kiss then paused.

  Plop. Plop. Plop. Plop. Plop.

  “Dead you hear that?” I asked.

  Patrick looked at me, one eyebrow quirked. “Really? Why do you try to work ‘dead’ into every sentence?”

  “‘Cause I still think it’s funny.”

  “That makes one of us.”

  We hurried up the stairs, following the odd sounds to our bedroom. Patrick opened the door and we peered inside.

  Little foil-wrapped balls were raining onto the bed. Thanks to my vampire nose,

  I could smell the gourmet delight that was Godiva. I pushed past Patrick, who protested and tried to grab my arm, but hel-lo, ain’t nothing or no one getting between me and a freaking bed full of Godiva.

  I grabbed one of the truffles, unwrapped it, and stuffed into my mouth. “Oh, my sweet lord,” I said, “it really is a pecan pie truffle.”

  “Jessica, where’s the stone?”

  I tossed him the gem and crawled onto the bed. I made a space, said a brief prayer of thanks that I no longer had to worry about widening my ass, and started unwrapping truffles.

  “You made a wish while holding this,” he said.

  I glanced at him, a half-unwrapped truffle in my hand. “Do you think it has more wishes?”

  “I think if it does, it’s a very dangerous object.”

  “Well, Stan will figure it out. We can lock up it the Consortium vault, but right now…” I patted the bed. “We have chocolate. All we need is nakedness.”

  Patrick locked our bedroom door, put the weird orange gem onto the nightstand, and then climbed onto the bed, pushing aside the truffles. From that look in his eyes, I had a feeling things were about to get messy.

  In a screamingly good way.

  Zombie Poetry

  Uuuuuuh.

  Uh. Uh. Uh.

  Uuuuuuh.

  Uh? Uh?

  Uuuuuuh.

  Uh!

  Uuuuuuh.

  Uh… uh… uh.

  Uuuuuuh.

  Uh; uh.

  Uuuuuuh.

  Uh: Uh, uh, uh.

  Uuuuuuh.

  Uh? Uh. Uh!

  Brains.

  TUESDAY, THE 13TH

  “What’re you doing?” asked Linda as she entered the basement lab. Her husband, Dr. Stan Michaels, removed the gem he’d been studying under some fancified scientific doo-dad. “Oooh. That’s pretty.”

  “Jessica found it in her attic in a box of Halloween decorations,” he said. “Patrick sensed magic. He said it granted Jessica’s wish.”

  “Chocolate?” asked Linda.

  “Apparently it rained pecan pie truffles in their bedroom.”

  Linda leaned against the counter and looked at the gem. “I bet she ate every one of those truffles, too.”

  “Jessica does love her chocolate.”

  “And I love you.”

  That got his attention. He turned toward and grasped her hand. He wasn’t the romance-novel type of vampire. Even the change hadn’t rid him completely of his basketball belly, and it certainly hadn’t given him more hair. He’d already been pale and doughy; so the Turning hadn’t much changed him there, either. She missed his glasses; she’d always thought he looked real sexy in those square black frames. He was smart. A lot smarter than her, but he never made her feel dumb. She’d been the one to Turn him, and through the whole terrible process, she could only think about how much time she’d wasted fending off his advances ’cause of her own insecurities. He’d loved her, and she’d almost lost him. But now, they had eternity together.

  “I’m surprised Jessica gave up something that made it rain chocolate.” She picked up the jewel and examined it. It was a sparkling bright orange, not a color she’d seen in a real gemstone. “It’s fake, right?”

  “Not synthetic, but I can’t find out what kind of crystal it is, either. Seems it would only grant the one wish,” said Stan.

  “Too bad,” said Linda as she rubbed the faceted edges. “If it still worked, I’d wish for an in-ground pool with a waterfall and rock landscaping. Oh! And the water would replenish itself, we’d never have clean it, and it would smell like lavender.”

  Stan blinked up at her. “If you wanted a pool, why didn’t you say so?”

  “You’ve been busy.” She gave him back the gem. “We haven’t spent much time together lately.”

  “Oh, honey.” Stan put down the orange stone and gathered his wife into his arms. “You’re more important to me than anything. If you want a pool, then by God, you’re getting a pool.”

  “C’mon,” said Linda. She kissed him very slowly. “We can go upstairs and discuss the pool.”

  As she led Stan up the staircase, the ground started to shake. They heard a boom, and then the roar of water.

  “What the hell?” she shouted. The earthquake stopped suddenly, and the two of them bolted up the stairs. They examined the house, but other than a few items bounced to the floor and an overturned hallway table, nothing seemed awry.

  She was on the second floor, checking out the bedrooms, when she heard Stan’s shout. She nearly tripped going back down the stairs. She hurried into the dining room. A row of windows allowed a view of their backyard. He was staring out the middle window, and she joined him. “What’s so…” She gasped. “Holy crap.”

  Her dream pool, with an elaborate waterfall, landscaped with rock all the way around, was there, right there, in the place where her recently mowed backyard had once been.

  She grabbed Stan’s hand and dragged him outside. They examined the rocks, sniffed the lavender-scented air, and put their hands in the warmed water.

  “It’s perfect,” she said. She tossed off her shoes and wiggled out of her jeans.

  “C’mon, baby. Let’s
take a dip.”

  “No, not yet,” said Stan. “We have to test the water, and do some readings. And the gem…” He lost his train of thought as his wife undressed, all the way down to her birthday suit.

  “Or we could jump in,” said Linda, grinning. “Cannonball!” She ran and jumped into the deep end, then broke the water and waved at him. “Are you gonna stand there or join me?”

  There was only one response. Stan hurriedly divested himself of his clothes and jumped into the water. When he came up for air, Linda was waiting. She wrapped her luscious body around him and kissed him until he nearly forgot his own name.

  “Wishes really do come true,” he said.

  “Hmmm,” said Linda, her lips trailing his neck. “I have another wish… and I think you might be able to help.”

  Then she whispered into his ear.

  He smiled, and started doing his best to make his beautiful wife’s next wish come true.

 

 

 


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