“I’m not… I just… I’m afraid I don’t get what you’re doing right now.”
I exchanged a glance with Kaylee. “I’m giving Kaylee a manicure.”
“But why? Why now?”
I shrugged. “Why not now? We’re safe in our camp, we’re not sleepy, the food can wait a bit.”
John shook his head. “I mean, why bother with stupid stuff like that? You’re surviving in a zombie apocalypse. Your nails should be the least of your worries.”
“Does it look like we’re worried about it?” I turned my attention back to my work. I felt, rather than saw, John cross his arms in frustration. When I finished, I told Kaylee to dunk the nail into the ice-cold water she’d just brought to help harden it faster. She nodded and wandered back to the fire.
I put all my equipment back into the bag and set it aside before I faced John. “Yes, we’re surviving the zombie apocalypse. We’re saving the asses of idiots like you who don’t know how to survive. That doesn’t mean we want to be ugly hags or bitches without breeding. We’re still the same people we were before, only tougher. Why should we give up the things we enjoyed before this mess happened if it’s still here for us to enjoy?” I paused. “Which reminds me, I need to brush my hair.”
John snorted as I went for my shoulder bag, made out of a pair of cut-off jeans with the legs sewn up, and pulled out a hair brush. I worked all the tangles out, counting to a hundred strokes. Kaylee had brought a bowl of stew to John and was eating some herself by the time I put the brush away. John still appeared disgusted.
“Another thing,” he said as I settled back in my chair with my own bowl. “Why do you dress like a naughty Catholic schoolgirl? Hardly seems practical.”
I grinned at him. “Do you like it? Does it get a rise out of you?”
His face flushed pink as he struggled to think of a response. I snickered at his discomfort.
“Don’t worry about it. That’s the point. It still has an effect on the zombies, at least the male ones. And the women who were lesbians when alive. And the transgender ones. I think they get fashion envy.” I flapped a hand in the air. “It allows me to get their attention long enough to dispatch them.”
“I think I’ve heard about enough.” John set his empty bowl on the grass and got up. “I need to get going.” He turned and started walking toward the trees.
“Hey, where are you going?” I said, sitting up in my chair.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m leaving.”
I cocked my head. “Don’t you think it would be best to stay here for a while?”
“And what? Have my nails or my hair done at your little sleepover in the woods? No thanks. I’m going to find a group that wants to get rid of the zombies and join them.”
I glared at him. “And what do you think we’ve been doing? If you stick around, I have a lot more information I think you’ll find—”
“Forget it,” John cut in. “I’m gone.” He vanished into the shadows. I heard him galumphing through the bushes, occasionally cursing. I sat back in my chair and pulled a compact out of my bag. I powdered away the shine on my nose as I opened my ears to the sounds of the night.
Crickets. Snapping twigs. Wind in the leaves.
I popped the cap off my favorite strawberry lip gloss and slicked some on my lips.
A scream.
A roar.
A bunch of Furbies babbling.
I put my makeup back in the bag and picked up my sheathed Waki. Strapping it to my shoulders, I stood up and turned to see Kaylee holding her chainsaw.
“And they say blondes have no brains,” I said to her. She nodded, and we left camp, following the screams.
Flashlight: A Parody
by Jeni Decker
“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.” Ed looked around the room, his pale face reflecting the multi-colored refractions cast from the dozens of disco balls hanging from the ceiling.
Students danced to 80’s music but were attired in the fashion of the 1800’s. The extravagant costumes worn by the graduating class of Mount LotsaTrees High School perfectly illustrated the lengths to which rich parents would go to appease their pampered and pedigreed children.
Unfortunately, the other thing it perfectly illustrated was the Student Council’s ineptitude with regard to party planning. One camp had wanted a Victorian theme for the yearly Halloween bash, the other an 80’s theme. The committee voted and deadlocked at five to five. But instead of coming to a cohesive plan that actually made sense, they proceeded to compromise by way of fusing the two vastly different ideas. This resulted in a hot mess of kids dressed in bulky Victorian clothing, all trying to do the MC Hammer or the Cabbage Patch to the timeless vocal stylings of Madonna and the B52’s.
The effect was an audio/visual combo that only managed to chafe where Baz Luhrmann’s Moulin Rouge had sizzled. Sweaty, mottled cleavage shoved high and tight into corsets abounded. Guys in hats (and for some reason monocles) kept adjusting themselves in their fancy britches.
Beula moon-walked over to Ed. One look at his simmering gaze and her knees almost buckled. She wanted him. She wanted his pointy teeth to pierce her lily-white skin. Yes, oh yes! Orgasmic Yes!
But then she cast her eternally flitting lashes across the room toward Wulfie. Poor, sweet, tragic, love-struck Wulfie—who she’d earlier that day shared a lustily chaste kiss with—was busy fiddling with his cell phone. Probably tweeting. Beula couldn’t help but notice the dexterity his agile fingers displayed as he fondled the keypad.
Beula sighed, shivered, and then returned her attention to Ed.
“Eddie, poo-poo, bloody-kins? I’m feeling a little tired. Can we go? Fly me to the top of the trees. I love it when you take me to the trees—the breathtakingly cinematic forest of trees that somehow always looks like it’s undergone a saturation and hue adjustment by God himself.”
When she mouthed ‘pretty please’ with her rosebud lips, Ed gave her one of his trademark I’m-a-deadly-vampire-and-I-could-suck-you-dry-in-the-time-it-takes-an-ADD-riddled-kid-to-siphon-the-contents-of-a-sugary-juice-box-but-I-won’t-because-you-are-my-beloved looks.
“Beula, this flying thing is getting ridiculous. I know it’s a novelty, but seriously. You can walk.” Ed’s tongue flicked out and tickled the tip of Beula’s wan nose.
“Edddddd…” Beula sighed because she was prone to sighing when she spoke, grew tired, apathetic, bored or was premenstrual (which she was not tonight, thankfully).
“You know I can’t say no to you, Beula, even when it almost gets me staked.” Ed switched to his Colgate, non-threatening human smile.
“Then let’s go.” Beula hopped into his waiting arms, a move they’d perfected to Olympic precision having done it so many times. She leaned in and whispered into his ear, “Oh, and just so you know, I got vagazzled today.”
Ed groaned with desire and closed his eyes. But suddenly his eyes opened. “What about trick-or-treating?”
“Huh?” Beula queried nasally.
“Well, I…uh…it’s just that I got turned before this whole candy thing came about and I think it’s pretty damn cool that people give out free candy. I mean, we’re already dressed.” Ed motioned down at his flamboyant Oscar Wilde brocade jacket and buckled shoes, but because he removed a hand from beneath her derriere in order to do so, Beula fell onto the dance floor with a thud.“Oh shit, I’m sorry!” Ed bent down and offered Beula a hand. Still emotionally smarting from the horror of dropping her, he underestimated his super-human strength and jerked her into the air.
Beula flew across the room and landed, again, on the floor, this time her skirt over her head, giving all of her fellow students a nice Spears-esque photo-op. She could only thank Beelzebub she was properly coiffed down under.
Ed zoomed across the room in a vampire blur, pulling her to her feet. “I’m so sorry, Beula.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She wiped her hands on his shirt. “Yuck. Sticky.”
Ed’s tongue darte
d out, and in the time it takes for a balloon to pop, he’d thoroughly drenched her dirty hand, licked between her fingers, and suckled every knuckle and fingernail.
Beula stared at her sopping hand. “I need to use the bathroom. Wait for me outside?”
Ed stared hungrily at her as she crossed the room. Just before she entered the restroom, she looked over her shoulder with that angst-ridden face he’d grown to know and love. In, like…a week.
Inside the bathroom, after washing her hands, peeing, then washing her hands again, Beula touched up her already pasty white face with baby powder. Over her shoulder, she saw Candy enter the bathroom. Candy was the one person in Ed’s family who clearly despised Beula for her pulse. Candy was delirious with jealousy on most days, but strangely buddy-buddy on others.
“Sup, human?” Candy asked, leaning up against the wall next to the hand dryer. Like the show-off that most vampires are, she touched up her lipstick and mascara, painted her nails, waited for them to dry, then washed her hands in a split second.
Beula opened her mouth to answer just as Candy tapped the button on the dryer and the room was filled with a loud hum.
Beula screamed, “Nothing how about…”
“What?” Candy cupped a hand around one ear. “I can’t hear you.”
“I said nothing, how about you?” Beula screamed louder.
“Not much. This Halloween party is lame, just like you humans. Lame.” Candy’s eyes glowed.
“Ed and I are leaving,” Beula yelled, leaning closer to Candy.
“What?” Candy said again, mocking Beula, hands cupped behind both of her undead ears.
“I SAID ED AND I ARE LEAVING AND I AM GOING TO SCREW HIS BRAINS OUT TONIGHT!” The last half of the sentence ricocheted off the walls against the abrupt silence as the dryer went off.
A group of sweaty girls in Victorian regalia entered at the same time, and now stared at Beula, their mouths agape.
“Gross,” the one dressed like a Victorian whore murmured.
Candy cackled and exited the bathroom.
“You know he’s dead, right?” the other one dressed like a Victorian whore added as she repositioned her cleavage.
“So, you’re…like…into necrophilia?” the last one, dressed whorishly as well, said.
Beula shrugged off the anti-vampire affront and exited the bathroom in a hurry, slamming directly into Wulfie.
“Uh, hey, Beula. How’s it going?” Wulfie looked up from his Blackberry.
“You’re going to get carpal tunnel, Wulf.” Beula batted her eyelashes at him.
Wulfie smiled.
Beula smiled.
Wulfie worried the floor with his toe.
Beula twirled a lock of hair around her finger.
Wulfie gulped.
Beula stared.
They both stared some more.
“Okay, so…” Wulfie trailed off.
“Yeah, I have to meet Ed.”
Suddenly, Wulfie flew into a very restrained rage. His eyes were blazing, but his dimples were still visible and his voice tempered. “Beula. He’s not good for you.”
“Neither is Red Bull but I suck those down by the case-full.” Beula grinned flirtatiously.
“I’m being serious, Beula,” Wulfie crooned through his still restrained rage. Another dimple appeared on his chin.
“Oh, Wulfie. You agonize too much. I’ll be fine.” She kissed him on the cheek and Ed appeared instantly by her side. When Wulfie turned to look at him, their noses touched and a spark of testosterone mixed with the unmistakable smell of dog shampoo fueled the air.
“Hello, Wulf.” Ed was clearly not amused.
Beula gently finagled her body between her two supernatural admirers and sighed. Again with the sighing, this time because she had Ed plastered to the front of her and Wulf firmly pressed against her backside and she liked it very much. Too much…
“Let’s go, Ed,” Beula whispered, leaving lipstick on his frilly shirt.
Not one to have to be asked more than once, Ed grabbed her around the waist, glared at his doggie nemesis, and everything became a blur.
Within seconds, they were perched atop a strong branch of one of the many lush trees in Mount LotsaTrees, deep within the forest. The full moon provided the only light, a sultry and seductive precursor to the momentous occasion.
Beula had been planning this for days, which was how long she’d known Ed give or take a day or so.
“I love it when you do that,” Beula sighed. “I thought we were going to go trick-or-treating.”
“We’ll get candy later. I want to see your vagazzle first, you tease.” Ed began peeling up layer upon layer of skirts, finally running a hand up her thigh.
Beula chastely smoothed her skirts down. “Not till…after.”
Ed shook his head. “I can’t do it! I would never hurt you, Beula. You are my beloved. My reason for liv…uh, my sweet, luscious, undead baby.”
“Okay, take it down a notch, Ed. I’m nobody’s baby. Nobody puts Beula in a crib. Bite me! We can’t go on like this, hiding our lust or dealing with all of the, ‘You screw dead people’ crap. Now bite me and make me a vampire before you guys go out of style again!”
Ed looked toward the heavens for an eternity. After a painfully long musical interlude-ish movie-like moment where even the trees surrounding them were groaning ‘Do it already!’ he hung his head in defeat.
“As you wish, my love.”
“Oh, please. Like you haven’t been wanting to sink your teeth into my carotid since the moment you met me.” Beula was not chastising. This was her version of verbal foreplay. Smart-ass, mouthy bitch—that’s what the vampires liked. Beula knew this because she read all the Sookie Stackhouse books.
Ed’s teeth popped out, unfortunately not with the snappy click of the vampire teeth on True Blood. Now those were some fabulous fangs! No, here in Mount LotsaTrees, the vampire teeth just suddenly appeared—no fanfare, no sound effects. Since the vampire popularity spike in pop culture, Ed and his real undead mates had been left feeling a bit…out of vogue.
“Are you sure, Beula?” Ed mumbled around his fangs, insecurity plaguing his lust-filled, glowing eyes.
“Oh, Eddie. Come on. Sookie lets Bill drink from her regularly.”
One of his perfectly tweezed eyebrows shot up. “You are aware they’re not real, right?”
Beula playfully punched Ed in the shoulder, knocking him out of the tree, but because he is a vampire, his ascent was quick and only slightly off-putting.
Beula pulled a flashlight and compact mirror from somewhere beneath the folds of her skirt. “I’ve got to see this. Hold the mirror like this…”
“What?” Ed seemed a bit off his game, the intense moment of before now spoiled.
Beula put the mirror in his hand, then rested it on her shoulder. “Just angle it that way…a little to the left…right there! Now don’t move.” She laid her head back against the tree, making sure she could still see the pulsing vein from her position. She flipped on the tiny flashlight and aimed it at her neck. A tiny bat signal highlighted the target zone.
Ed looked around, confused. “Where are you hiding all of this stuff?”
Beula giggled and shrugged. “I have secrets too, Ed.”
Under strict instructions not to move, Ed hovered over her in a less-than-vampirely way, looking awkward and slightly daft. “Beula, I—”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Ed! What’s the problem? Just do it!”
As always happened when Beula got pushy and teenager-ish with him, Ed became even more enamored by his beloved. His fancy britches were rapidly growing tighter around his groin area. With great care, he leaned in toward her. He savored the moment, his fangs suspended above her pallid skin. He hovered so long, he started to drool and a few drops fell onto Beula’s coif.
“The hair, Eddi-kins. The hair,” Beula whined, pushing Ed away from her. “You have no idea how much product is involved in making my long tresses look like a cross between bed-
head and freshly-styled.” Beula gently tossed the wet lock of hair over her shoulder, exposing even more of the vast landscape that made up her colorless neck.
Ed lunged, instead, for her mouth, throttling her tongue with his roving maw. A wet, slippery lip-lock ensued until Beula accidentally (on purpose) knocked Ed in the forehead with her flashlight.
“Ouch!” Ed sat back up.
“Sorry, but the makeup, sweetie. Watch the makeup. It cost Daddy seventy-five bucks to get me this almost-in-a-coma-because-I-haven’t-eaten-in-three-days alabaster translucence and you’re licking it all off. ”
Ed shifted preternaturally, pinning her beneath him in a split second.
Beula stared up into his glowing eyes, inviting him closer by using the beam from the bat light to trace circles on her neck.
“Come to Momma,” Beula purred.
Ed sprang. Just as his incisors made contact and a tiny trickle of blood was let, Beula shrieked, causing a gaggle of crows roosting in the surrounding trees to cackle and take for the skies. The beating of wings and the birds’ plaintive squawks filled the air around them.
Beula bellowed. “The dress, hon! This thing cost my father a fortune to rent. If you get blood on it, we’ll lose our deposit!”
“I’m starting to think you don’t actually want to do this.” Using his vampire wiles, Ed flew to a neighboring treetop to mope. The whole “bite me, don’t bite me” thing filled him with a growing ennui. All of his friends had warned him: Humans are trouble. High-maintenance trouble.
“Ed-eeeeee!” Beula wailed. “Please come back.”
“You like him, don’t you. The…dog,” Ed lamented.
“Don’t be silly,” Beula said, not wanting Ed to get a whiff of anything Wulf-related. She certainly couldn’t let him know she had any feelings, other than friendly ones, for Wulfie—not to mention the fact that she considered Wulfie her plan B, her little doggie-bag of possibilities should her détente with Ed’s vampire clan go further south.
It Was a Dark and Stormy Night... Page 13
