The Creeping Dead: A Zombie Novel

by Edward P. Cardillo

  Vinnie looked, and his jaw fell open as his car careened off a wooden bridge.

  Dharma pulled her shirt back down and flew ahead, taking second place.

  “I beat you!”

  Vinnie blushed. “That’s not fair.”

  “Weren’t you the one who said you should always keep your eyes on the road?”

  Vinnie looked around nervously. “This is a family establishment. There are kids here.”

  Dharma jumped up out of her seat. “C’mon, I wanna ride the carousel.”

  Vinnie got up as she grabbed his hand and yanked him out of the arcade, back onto the boardwalk. She didn’t let go of his hand as they walked.

  “So, I hear you have a classic car you’re working on.”

  “Yeah, it’s a 1969 Mustang.”

  “Is it fast?”

  “It’s got some muscle. Not the fastest car out there, but it’s a classic. They don’t make ’em like that anymore.”

  “Cool, so do you drive it around? I’ve never seen you in it.”

  “Right now I’m in the process of rebuilding the alternator, so at the moment, no.”

  “Where’d you get it?”

  “You know Mike Brunello?”

  “Over at Blackbeard’s Pier? The guy who runs the carousel?”

  “Yeah, that one.”

  “He sold it to you?”

  “Yeah. It’d been sitting in his garage for years. He stopped driving it and decided he wanted to unload it. Said he was getting too old for a car like that.”

  “Wow.” She looked impressed that ol’ Mike once owned a car like that. “Can’t picture him in a muscle car.”

  “Why not? He was younger once.”

  “Oh, excuse me. So why did you get that car instead of a new Camaro or something?”

  “He practically gave it to me. Besides, there’s something cool about keeping a classic on the road. I’ll tell you, that car is timeless.”

  “Kinda like the carousel and Smuggler’s Bay for that matter.”

  Vinnie smiled at this. This girl got him.

  They practically ran into the Blackbeard’s Pier Arcade, Dharma in the lead, and Vinnie following right behind her. It gave him an opportunity to check out her ass.

  Because of the hour, the carousel was less crowded. All of the little kiddies were snug in bed back at their motels. Mike probably was too.

  Vinnie walked up to the ticket machine and reached for his wallet, but Dharma put her hand up. “I got this.”

  She fed the machine four dollars, and she pressed the button. Four orange tickets slid out.

  Vinnie put up his hands. “Oh, you shouldn’t have gotten me a ticket. You go. I’ll watch.”

  “Oh, no,” said Dharma, grabbing his hand again. “Not after all of this talk about classics and why we love ’em. The carousel is a classic, and you’re going on with me.”

  She let go of his hand and curled her right index finger, beckoning him to follow her, flashing him her best ‘come hither’ look.

  Vinnie cursed himself silently for not being able to resist. He got on the short line with her and looked around, hoping no one he knew saw him.

  Dharma started kneading his shoulders. “Loosen up, Vinnie. You’re always so nervous. You’re having fun, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, of course I am.”

  “Unless you’d rather be back at the meat market asking Benny girls to dance?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “C’mon, I’m only joking.”

  “No, about the Bennies, I mean. They support this place.”

  “I know. That’s what my mom says, too. My Dad think’s they’re obnoxious, though.”

  “Well, some of them can be,” Vinnie conceded.

  The carousel operator that Vinnie only knew as Ethel (she was a new employee, around Mike’s age, maybe a little younger) opened the gate, and Dharma went skipping through.

  Dharma hopped onto the carousel and selected a blue seahorse. Vinnie chose the horse right next to hers. They hopped up and strapped themselves in. After a minute or two, the bell began to ring, and the horses slowly sprung to life.

  As the carousel picked up speed, Vinnie enjoyed the cool breeze on his face and in his hair. He remembered riding the carousel as a kid with his mother, the lights and electronic sounds passing by as he waved to his father.

  He looked at the pretty girl on the horse next to him and thought his mother would’ve been proud. Proud that he was out with such a pretty girl, and proud that she got him to ride the carousel again. He watched as the breeze tossed Dharma’s long, blond hair around. He marveled at her beautiful smile.

  This night couldn’t have been more perfect.

  The ride began to gradually slow until it came to a complete stop. Dharma quickly unstrapped herself and hopped off her horse. She waited for Vinnie, and they stepped off the ride and strolled out the exit, thanking Ethel on the way out.

  “I want some ice cream,” announced Dharma. She took his hand in hers and they were off to the frozen custard stand next door. Dharma ordered a vanilla cone, and Vinnie a chocolate one.

  “Let’s get a bench looking at the ocean,” Vinnie suggested.

  “Okay.”

  They walked, frozen custard in hand and Vinnie already sporting a brown mustache, over to the benches at the edge of the boardwalk on the side facing the ocean.

  They picked a pink reversible bench with the back set up so that they would be facing the boardwalk. Vinnie switched the back, pulling it forward, so they would be able to sit facing the other way.

  He gestured for her to sit.

  “Oh, how gallant,” she smiled. She sat, putting her feet up on the chain link fence.

  Vinnie sat beside her, leaning forward, digging into his chocolate frozen treat. It felt good going down, another little guilty pleasure in the midst of a brutal heat wave.

  It was dark, so they weren’t able to see the water, but they heard the rhythmic crashing of the waves on the sand in the dark void before them. Vinnie found the black void ominous, a stark, dreary contrast to the hustle and bustle of the boardwalk behind them.

  Dharma swallowed a mouthful of vanilla. “So, are you happy with how the night turned out?”

  “Definitely.”

  “So, does this mean that we’re friends now?”

  Vinnie wasn’t quite sure how to react to the ‘F-word.’ He had actually hoped they were on their way to becoming more than friends. He felt something between them. Now he wondered if she felt it too.

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “You guess so? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I mean…well, I like you…I mean, we’re definitely friends…”

  Dharma leaned over and planted a kiss on Vinnie’s cheek. Her lips were cold from her frozen custard, which somehow enhanced the pleasure of the sensation of being kissed by her.

  Now he wondered if that was a friendly kiss or…something else. Well, if there were feelings above and beyond friendship…if she really liked him, it was too soon for her to just make out with him. Wasn’t it? Or…

  “Vinnie, I’d think by now you’d realize that I like you…a lot.”

  Bingo.

  “I-I like you too,” he replied rather awkwardly.

  “Good. So does this mean I get the friends and family discount at Marco’s?”

  That damned F-word again. No. He wouldn’t allow his neurotic doubt to creep back into his mind. She liked him. She said so herself. She came by the pizzeria every damned day, she flirted with him, she just kissed him on the cheek, and she just said she liked him…a lot.

  “Well, you get the friend’s discount now…but the girlfriend’s discount is so much better.”

  Dharma smiled, her eyes widened in surprise at his bold statement, and then they narrowed. “Well played, Vinnie. Well-played, indeed.”

  She slid a little closer to him on the bench, almost imperceptibly, and they enjoyed the rest of their custard in a shared, comfortable silence.
There was now an understanding between them where there was once confusion and doubt. The Smuggler’s Bay Boardwalk had worked its magic.

  After they finished their custard, Dharma looked at her watch, which caused Vinnie to look at his. It was almost 1:15. The boardwalk was thinning out and businesses were starting to shut down for the night.

  Vinnie was reminded of a time he and his friends walked the boardwalk at 3 a.m. It was eerie to see it completely dark and empty. It was off-putting.

  “Walk me home?”

  “Sure.” He just realized that he had no idea where Dharma lived.

  They stood up as two police officers on bikes passed by, scanning the sparse crowd of pedestrians. Vinnie saw a staff member of the Blackbeard’s Pier Arcade getting ready to pull down the metal gates.

  Dharma began to walk, and he walked beside her, but Vinnie was really following her. They stepped off the boardwalk at Ocean Avenue and walked parallel to the boardwalk for two blocks. A police car crept past, shining its light on the young couple. Satisfied there was no mischief or wrong doing going on, the cop moved on to a group of staggering Guidos farther down the street that was very loud. He flipped his lights on and they turned to look, hurling curses at the police car.

  Vinnie was not interested in seeing how that was going to turn out. Dharma had them turn left on Nautilus Street. They strolled on until she stopped in front of a small bungalow with yellow siding.

  “This is me.”

  “Great. This was fun…maybe we can do this again.”

  “I’d like that.” She leaned forward, closed her eyes, and gave him a quick peck on his mouth. Her full lips were warmer this time. “G’nite, Vinnie.”

  “G’nite, Dharma.”

  He watched her fish for her house key, enter her house, and close the front door behind her. He then turned back onto Ocean Avenue and headed north.

  He wanted to skip home. This night was completely unexpected, and he felt a reluctant gratitude toward his two friends who cajoled him into going out tonight. The rest…well, that was pure magic.

  Vinnie loved summers at the Jersey Shore. It was as if anything could happen, and often did. The beach, the boardwalk, the rides, the clubs…he couldn’t imagine spending his summers any other way.

  He eventually came upon the Jolly Roger Pub. There was someone standing in front of the bar, leaning on the wall, smoking, the person’s face hidden by the darkness and puffs of smoke.

  A coal glowed for a moment as the smoker took a drag. “Hey, Vinnie. You’re out late.”

  Vinnie knew that voice. “Hey, Mr. Blake.”

  Billy threw down his cigarette butt and rubbed it out with his foot. “If I told ya once, I told ya a thousand times, it’s Billy. Mr. Blake’s my dad. You make me feel old callin’ me Mr. Blake.”

  Vinnie smiled. “Sorry, Billy.”

  “That’s more like it. Where you comin’ from this late? That teen night at the Shore Club?”

  “Nah. I was out with a girl. On the boardwalk.”

  Billy arched a devilish eyebrow. “A girl, huh? Who? Anyone I know?”

  The question made Vinnie as uncomfortable as who was asking it and how it was asked, which were all related. “Some girl.”

  “You get some?”

  “It wasn’t anything like that. We just played some video games, went on a few rides, had some ice cream.”

  “Oh.” Billy stood next to Vinnie and put his arm around him. His breath reeked of tobacco and beer. “Well, don’t wait too long. There’s a small window when you first meet a girl, and when it closes, there’s no way you’re getting in her pants. Make hay while the sun’s shining.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Why don’t ya come in and play me a game or two of pool?”

  “I have to get up tomorrow to go to work.”

  Billy waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell your dad you were with me. He’ll let you come in late.”

  “I’m pretty beat.”

  “One game. Whaddaya say, kiddo?”

  “Okay. One game.”

  “Damn bar’s closing soon anyway.”

  They walked in through the front door. Whitesnake played over the sound system.

  “Look what this cat dragged in from the street,” announced Billy. Heads turned.

  “Hey, Vinnie,” said Jenny from the bar.

  “Hi, Jenny.”

  Everyone else, all four or five of them, went back to their drinks and conversations.

  Billy slapped a bill on the bar. “Jenny, get my friend here a cold one.”

  “You know I can’t do that, Billy. He’s underage. Chief Holbrook’d have my ass.”

  “That’s not true,” declared Billy, “because your ass is mine.”

  Jenny rolled her eyes, but there was a brief smile.

  “How ’bout a cola then, sweetheart?” Billy was crass and brash, but he did have a way with women. Somehow, he always managed to snag some tail.

  “See, kid. That’s how you talk to women.”

  Jenny slid a pint of cola over to Vinnie. “Don’t listen to him. You’ll die alone.”

  This remark seemed to cut through Billy’s bravado and hit him where it hurt. There was a moment where he looked as if he was going to say something truly nasty back, but he held his tongue.

  “Let’s go shoot a game, before Jenny’s charm wins me over.”

  They walked over to the nearest table, a seven-and-a-half-foot bar table. The felt was torn in some places and stained in others. Johnny Wong stood beside it, leaning on his pool cue.

  Billy sniffed. “Johnny, take a break. Vinnie’s going to play a game.”

  “Hi, Vinnie,” said Johnny, backing away from the table and taking a seat next to the table holding his pint of beer.

  “Hey, Johnny.” Vinnie really didn’t know Johnny very well. He knew who he was. Hell, he passed his broadcast booth every day on the boardwalk.

  He was a bit older than Vinnie. Having just graduated this past May from college with his degree in Communications, this was his first paid gig. Vinnie imagined it didn’t pay much, but everyone paid their dues in the beginning.

  “You’re out late,” remarked Johnny.

  Billy popped in four quarters and released the balls, while Vinnie took a gulp of his cola and placed it on the small bar table.

  “Quit breakin’ his balls, Johnny.” Billy winked at Vinnie. “Rack ’em, Danno.”

  Vinnie didn’t get the reference (and neither did Johnny, for that matter), but he grabbed the rack from its holder on the side of the table and started placing balls in it. “What time do you open tomorrow, Billy?”

  “Whenever I goddamned please, I guess.”

  “You’re not worried you’ll miss customers?”

  “They don’t buy my kind of shit first thing in the morning. They’re either sleeping in or hitting the beach, tanning their fine young bodies.”

  “How ’bout you, Johnny?”

  “My show starts at noon, which is right around when I wake up.”

  “You’re lucky. I gotta be in by ten thirty to help fire up the ovens and help my dad set up.”

  Vinnie finished racking the balls. He replaced the rack and went over to the cue rack to select a stick. He chose one with a good weight to it. He rolled it on the other pool table, checking to see if it was straight.

  Billy grinned. “Good, Kid. You’re daddy taught you well.”

  It wasn’t perfect, but good enough. All of the cues were warped at the Jolly Roger Pub. It was only a matter of degree.

  “Break my balls, Billy.”

  “You know I will,” Billy said, smiling. He leaned over the table and broke the balls. It was a good spread. He got a high ball in. Billy always liked high.

  Vinnie took a sip of his Coke and placed it back on the table. “Sales going good?”

  Billy shrugged and shot the thirteen ball in the corner pocket. “It’s been a pretty good summer. You should come by and hang out sometime
. There’s lots of hot teen girls who come by to check out my wares.”

  “I’m sure there is.”

  “You have no idea,” said Johnny. “I reel them in from Billy’s shop on the fly. They love getting on the radio. Sometimes I let them do shout outs.”

  Billy lined up a bank shot around the four ball and sank the nine in the side pocket, gaining excellent position for a shot on the eleven into the same side pocket. Billy always worked the sides. It was his jam.

  “They’re a little young for you, you fucking perv,” said Billy to Johnny.

  “Talk about the pot calling the kettle black,” said Johnny, the irony of Billy’s remark lost on him.

  “Just cuz I look at the menu, doesn’t mean I order.”

  “I’m the perfect age,” said Vinnie. “Both of you can live vicariously through me.”

  Billy lined up his next shot. “Maybe you can pick up another girlie to take out for a night on the boardwalk.” He sunk the eleven and set himself up for a rail shot with the fifteen. He made the shot.

  Vinnie smirked. “Are you sure you wanted to play me? It looks like you’re just playing with yourself.”

  Billy smirked at the reference. “Your daddy know you talk like that?”

  “I think everybody knows you like to play with yourself, Billy,” said Johnny.

  Vinnie blushed a little. “Just shoot, Billy. You run the table and I’ll get to go home earlier than I thought. Then you can get back to sweeping the floor with Johnny, here.”

  “Hey,” protested Johnny, “for all you know, I could’ve been wiping the floor with his ass all night.”

  Billy leaned over the table, lining up his shot on the ten. He shot and missed. “Vinnie’s not as dumb as you look, Johnny.”

  “You missed that on purpose,” said Vinnie.

  “You wanted a shot, there you go.”

  Vinnie scanned the table, sizing up his prospects. Billy was the type of player that you couldn’t miss with. If you missed twice, then he had you. He rarely missed. He wasn’t fancy, but he was consistent.

  Billy took a straight shot on the four and sunk it in the corner.

  “Nice shot, Kid. Just keep an eye on your cue ball control.”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  Billy rolled his eyes and hollered over to Jenny. “Three shots of whiskey.”

  “I told you, Vinnie’s too young,” she hollered back.