by Cathy Gaitan
“Did you forget something,” he asked in confusion.
“Yes. I forgot my courage. We shouldn’t be running. That’s old Mercy’s M.O. I’m a Ninja Assassin. Ninjas are fighters.”
“And what if Julia and Titus show up? What then,” he’s worried but he doesn’t need to be.
“You once said this revolution needed to be a democracy. The whole group should be involved in the important decisions. Julia violated that and so did I. We need to get things together if we want this revolution to be successful. I think we all want that. Don’t you,” I can’t believe I’m saying all this but it’s the truth.
Pinkerton grinned at me crookedly. “What happened to the mad Ninja? You’re making too much sense,” he joked.
“I think it’s directly related to my sugar intake,” I pop some Nerds in my mouth and wait for the sugar rush.
He shook his head and turned the car around. “So, we drove ten miles for a junk food run.”
“Pretty much,” I replied, tossing the candy box into the trash pile along with all the other wrappers and boxes.
I point forward. “To Happyville!”
“The Zombie capital of the world,” announced Pink.
“Ooh! I like that!”
“Yeah, I knew you would.” He cranks up the radio and we blast our way back to base camp.
*********************************************************
Everyone’s surprised to see us when we arrive back in Happyville but they greet us warmly which is nice.
“I think we should call back the rest of the group,” I tell Pinkerton once we settle back into the house we’ve been staying in. “It feels like forever since we’ve seen the others.”
“What about Julia and Titus,” he asks hesitantly.
“Them too. We’re family. It’s time we started acting like it. We’re better together than apart.”
Pinkerton didn’t say anything but he started tapping away at his phone. When he was done he looked at me. “I group texted them and requested a meeting in Happyville. I included directions.”
“Thank you! This is going to be awesome!! I can feel it,” for some reason I was feeling really enthusiastic. I hope the feeling lasts.
It’s not long before I start receiving ‘Welcome Back!’ texts from the group. It’s kind of funny. They’re acting like I was away on vacation instead of back from the dead.
Wendell comes over to us with a big grin on his face. “I’m glad you guys are back. There’s a report of a Zombie group that just managed to escape authorities in Washington. It might be worth our while to send a crew there to see if we can recruit them.”
Wendell has turned into quite the recruiter. He and a few of the other guys are always quick to volunteer. I guess you could call them our official recruitment team. They can get along with just about anyone which seems to be the key to convincing Zombies to join the cause. It always helps if they like you.
“Do what you gotta do,” Pink nodded. “How many are we talking?”
Wendell laughed. “The news said it was a group of at least 25 but I have a feeling it’s more. They seemed to be pretty organized. They actually managed to post some billboards with the words ‘Calling all Zombies’ on them.
Pink grinned widely at me. “It sounds like they’re recruiting themselves.” He high fived Wendell. “This should be a piece of cake for you. Just call me if you need help.”
“I won’t,” Wendell responded confidently. “We got this but thanks for the offer.”
I can’t believe our team is working so smoothly. We rock! From the expression on his face I’m pretty sure Pinkerton is thinking the same thing.
“I think recruitment is going to be crucial to our success,” I tell him. “The guys are doing great but we’ll need to reach across the country. I’m hoping the other teams have as strong a recruitment team as we do.”
“Well we know Titus is a hell of a recruiter,” Pink stated. “Kailani is too I think. Hopefully some of their initiates are also. When we meet we’ll need to make that a main topic of discussion. “
“We might want to consider a training session for recruiter candidates,” I suggest.
“That’s a great idea,” agrees Pink. I don’t need his approval but for some reason it makes me happy that I have it. He pulls out his phone and starts making notes.
“Have you checked your blog lately,” he asks as he continues to type.
“What’s to check? I posted it last night,” I tell him with an eye roll. Why is he messing with me? I know he read it.
Pink stops typing to stare at me. “You know people send in responses or questions. Right?”
Honestly, that never occurred to me. To him I say, “Duh, of course I know that. I’ve just been busy. I pull the tablet out of my bag and check my blog. Yep, I have over 30 messages. Great,” I mean that sarcastically. Have I ever told you I hate email? Well, I do. I call it stranger mail because most of it is from people I don’t l know who try to pretend they know me. Weird.
These are no better. Here’s a sample:
Zombie Witch,
You are an abomination! You need to stay dead!!
Heaven’s Messenger
Dear Ms. Mayhem,
I think my mother-in-law might be a Zombie. How can I tell?
Desperate in Alabama
Hey Mercy!
Can you hook me up with Titus Remington? He’s to die for (pun intended)!
Bibidee Bea
Ms. Mayhem,
I believe you may have a case against Ms. Caesar. Contact me to pursue damages.
Respectfully,
Bartholemew James
Law Offices of Peterson, James. Steinberg & Wallace
Miss Mercy,
Is Pinkerton Floyd single? What about Titus Remington? I need details!
#1 Zombie Fan
Hi Ms. Mayhem,
I was just wondering what I need to do to become a Zombie. Please contact me.
Better Off Dead
“Are there any potential initiates,” Pinkerton asked me when I laughed.
“A couple,” I answered absently. There were so many inquiries about Titus and Pinkerton. It’s kind of strange. I glance covertly at Pink. I mean I guess he’s attractive but these women don’t know how annoying he can be. And don’t even get me started on Titus! I’m just surprised Julia hasn’t tried to kill him yet. Honestly I don’t think what I did is nearly as aggravating as what he does on a daily basis.
“There are some that want to be your personal recruit,” I told him with a raised eyebrow. He eyed me curiously then made a move to grab the tablet from my hand.
“No,” I shoved it behind my back. “We need keep our focus. The revolution needs us,” I insisted.
Pink nodded solemnly then reached around my back for the i-pad. “I’m all about sacrifice for Zombie kind,” he replied as he yanked it from my fingers. “I’m selfless that way.”
“Those are my messages. You don’t have a right to invade my privacy like that,” I growled. He was really starting to annoy me.
That stopped him for a moment. He looked at me with consternation. “You, Mercy Mayhem, are a hypocrite. A few weeks ago you were taking my clothes and babbling some crazy nonsense about a clothing exchange. That was an invasion of privacy.”
“So what?” It’s my go-to phrase when I don’t know what to say. He pinned me in a corner. Nice try.
“So, you’re a hypocrite,” he spoke slowly as though it would help me understand better.
“What’s your point,” I ask. I’m just trying to buy some time.
He shakes his head and tosses the i-pad into my lap. “Never mind.”
It worked! This day was turning out better and better.
“I’m going to the diner to get some lunch,” he muttered over his shoulder.
I toss the i-pad into my bag and run to catch up with him. “Wait for me. I’m starving.”
“How can you tell? You’re always eating,” he complained rud
ely. I don’t eat that much. Really! I graze. You know a few nuts here, some fruit there, a couple of boxes of candy, a few slices of pizza. Like I said. I graze. Stop judging me!
I ignore his comment and enjoy the walk. The sun is shining, birds are singing and I can smell Molly’s pies from here. It’s a good day.
“Your stomachs growling,” he commented for no good reason. Your supposed to ignore it. Everyone knows that. Everyone but Pink apparently.
“Are you trying to bring me down?” He really is. No need to answer.
“Why? Is it working,” he questioned. Not the least bit apologetic. He can be such a jackass sometimes.
“Not a bit. It will take more than your sour mood to ruin the good vibe I’m rocking today,” I bragged. It’s partially true but mostly inflated bravado.
“I bet I could do it,” Pink challenges. I can practically feel the trap. There is nothing Pink likes better than a challenge. I need to tread carefully.
I decide to ignore it altogether. “What kind of pie do you think Molly made today,” I ask instead. It’s a completely harmless and not a bit of challenge to be had from it.
“What do you want to bet it’s cherry,” he asks slyly. Damn this Zombie!
I need to just pretend I didn’t hear him. I try for about 3 seconds. Before I know it I hear myself say, “Its apple. No doubt in my mind.” What is wrong with me?
Pinkerton laughs evilly. “Mad Ninja you are on! The winner decides their prize,” he declares.
When we walk in the diner Molly’s behind the counter talking to Torin who’s seated in front of it eating a piece of cherry pie with a cup of black coffee.
They greet us with a smile. Then Molly looks at Pinkerton and says, “By the way, thank you Pinkerton for helping me unload all those cherries this morning. I overslept and was scrambling to get breakfast ready before the morning rush.
Snap! I feel the trap close around me. In my mind I shake my fist at him. Damn you Pinkerton Floyd!! Outwardly I calmly whisper, “You are a cheater. That bet doesn’t count.”
“Oh, it counts,” he didn’t whisper at all. “You’re just a sore loser. I like it though. It makes winning sweeter.”
Molly looks at us both in confusion. “What did you win,” she asks Pinkerton.
His laugh sounds like evil incarnate. “A piece of her soul.”
I roll my eyes and head to a booth in the back. Over my shoulder I say, “Molly I’m gonna need a huge slice of cherry pie and Pinkerton Floyd on a pike.”
“Oh, my,” I hear Molly whisper fretfully. She hates it when anyone argues. She needs to just get over it. Pink and I will argue a hundred times a day. It’s just a fact of life. The sun rises, the sun sets and we argue. Because he’s a cheater.
“And I’ll take a burger, fries and a side of cry baby,” Pinkerton told her. I didn’t have to turn to know Molly was wringing her hands. I almost laughed but I was too angry at Pink right now.
“Don’t worry about them, Molly,” Torin soothed. “Some people are just contrary. Those two revel in it.”
Truer words were never spoken.
When Pinkerton slid into the booth across from me I ignored him and studied the menu I already had memorized. I acted as though the pink vinyl was the most interesting thing on the planet.
Meanwhile, Pink did everything he could to try and make me blow my fuse. “Let me think, how will I collect from you this time?”
“You didn’t earn it,” I hiss. “You tricked me!”
He grinned happily. “I know. That’s what makes it so good.”
“I’m going to get you back for this. You know that. Right?” It will happen. One way or another I will make it happen.
“Don’t bore me with baseless fantasies,” Pink sighed. “I have legitimate plans to make.”
Molly brought my pie and coffee over. Her hands were shaking so badly that coffee sloshed over the side. This just agitated her more. “I’m so s-sorry,” she stuttered as she patted at the spill with a hand towel.
I patted her hand. “Molly, It’s okay. Don’t let the fact that Pinkerton’s a jerk bother you.”
“Oh, dear,” she looked at Pinkerton and I swear she looked like she wanted to cry.
This is all Pinkerton’s fault. Really!
Pink gave her a reassuring nod and smiled. “Mercy annoys everyone. Hell, Julia even tried to kill her. Don’t worry about it. Apparently she’s not going anywhere.”
Molly’s lip began to wobble. Pinkerton leaned forward and patted her arm. “Hey, Molly? Is that my burger I smell?”
Her eyes widened before she turned and fled toward the kitchen where the scent of smoke and charred meat filled the air.
Pink and I looked at one another for a moment then started laughing. Poor Molly!
“What do you want to bet she has Torin bring me my meal,” he wagers. “If you win I don’t collect on the other wager. If I win, you owe me double.”
I try to say no but the lure of evading the first wager is too tempting. My stupid mouth answers for me before I can think better of it. “You’re on. No way will Molly chicken out like that.”
Molly seems to take this waitressing thing pretty seriously. I mean she actually worries about getting peoples eggs to them on time. That’s dedication. Right?
A few minutes later Torin brings over Pinkerton’s hamburger and Pink grins smugly at me. I thought about stabbing him with my fork but opted to eat most of his fries instead. That’s what he gets!
I don’t even want to think about what he’s going to make me do. Of course that’s all I can think about. He knows it too and if I know Pink, and I do, he’s going to drag out my torture as long as he can.
This day sucks!
12
Chapter Twelve
Important Message for Bibidee Bea crazy:
STOP STALKING ME!!
My heart belongs to the Queen of the Zombies.
-from Titus Remington’s twisted Twitter feed
Julia Caesar
Three days after Pinkerton’s meeting request
I am so nervous about seeing Mercy again. More specifically, I’m nervous about what my reaction will be to seeing her. What if I humiliate myself by crying? It’s not as far-fetched as it seems. After all I didn’t expect to cry with Titus in the car the other day but my body did it without my permission. What if it happens again?
Damn! I’m starting to sound like Mercy. What if this happens? What if that happens? I need to get a grip! I am a doer not a worrier. Worrying does nothing but waste your time on hypothetical occurrences. It’s essentially just daydreaming for the anxious. That’s not me. At least not normally.
Stop it! I can feel you judging me. You try killing someone then bringing them back from the dead and see how calm you are about seeing that person again. I guarantee you’d be as anxious as I am. Probably more so.
Titus is in the corner of the hotel room playing on his phone. “I swear Titus, if you are tweeting that witch again I’m going to toss that stupid phone in the toilet.”
Bibidee Bea is getting on my last nerve! She actually had the audacity to send a message to Mercy’s blog requesting a hookup with Titus. Mercy’s response gave me sisterhood tingles:
If you want a hookup try Harmony.com. I’ve gotta bigger things to think about.
I like to think she wrote that for me and not just because she’s bad tempered but honestly it could go either way.
“I’m not Tweeting the witch,” Titus insisted. I believe him. I don’t know why the witch’s interest in him bothers me so much. There are a lot of girls that hit on him over social media. Heck they do it in person. Sometimes right in front of me. I don’t get half as annoyed with them.
I guess the difference is those others are just silly females with infatuations. The witch is legit. She actually has skills. What if he likes that? Damnit!! Again with the ‘what ifs’. I’m driving myself crazy.
I look up to find Titus’ gaze trying to probe my skull. “You need to chill out, Ju
lia. Everything is going to be fine. You’ll see.”
I concentrate on his voice and take a deep breath. He’s right. I need to relax. “Why do you think they went back to Happyville,” I ask him. “It’s so weird. We literally snuck out of town when we left that place. Why would they want to go back?”
Titus shrugged. He stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Mercy was already a nut. Maybe being dead fried her brain or something.” He paused and looked at me startled. “Hell, you don’t think she’s become like them do you? You know with the fake smiles and the weird vibe.”
I shuddered. “I hope not. I’d hate to have to kill her again.” The idea is repulsive but if she came back Stepford I’d have to do the deed. No way could I let her exist like that.
“Of course that wouldn’t explain why Pinkerton is there. He was as creeped out as us. I don’t think he’d willingly subject himself to that,” he contemplated. It’s funny to see him so serious. I’m kind of liking it.
He looked at me curiously. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
I just shrugged. No way am I telling him.
I should have known it wouldn’t matter. He wriggles his eyebrows at me. “I look good today. Don’t I?”
He does but of course I don’t tell him that. Instead I say, “Actually, I was thinking your beard could use a trim.”
He chuckles and shakes his head at me. “I’m not buying that! You love my beard.”
I do but I refuse to admit it. “It’s okay I guess. I’ve seen better though,” I lie. I’ve yet to meet anyone who rocks a beard as well as Titus Remington. Do not tell Titus I said that!
“Name one,” Titus scoffs as he walks toward me. Of course he doesn’t believe me. He has an enormous ego. I rack my brain but when I can’t come up with anyone even halfway believable he says, “That’s what I thought! I may not have invented the beard but I perfected it.” His grin is ridiculous.
