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Authors: N.C. Reed

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BOOK: Friggin Zombies
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“You are completely single minded, you know that?” she smiled.

“Where you are concerned, I guess I am,” I admitted.

“I'd like that,” she said softly, her smile softening as well. “I really would. Maybe tomorrow night?”

“It's a date,” I nodded firmly. “Meanwhile, let's get Miss Congeniality out of our hair for good.”

*****

It took an hour to get Rita back home, and another hour-and-a-half to get Connie packed to go. The hardest part was her furniture, a bedroom suite and recliner along with an entertainment center, large flat-screen and surround sound stereo movie player combination. It all fit in the trailer with a little room to spare though. During the packing Rita continued to snipe at both of us but we ignored her, satisfied to be rid of her stupid ass.

At one point she threatened to tell everyone in town what we'd shared with her about the possible zombie problem. Both of us stopped at that, looking at her. She obviously hadn't expected that reaction and began to back-track. I held up a hand to stop her and moved to face her.

“If you were to do something like that,” I said evenly, “how do you think it will look when we explain the truth about why Connie moved out and left you here?” Rita frowned, but I went on. “You know, how you started seeing all kinds of crazy conspiracy things in the news, on the internet, and started losing your grip on reality. We tried an intervention, but it failed. Since you hadn't done anything illegal or threatened yourself or anyone else we couldn't really report you, but Connie had to think about her career so she did the only thing she could and moved. Since she can't afford to pay for this place and another one, she moved in with a friend, me, until the lease here was up and she could find a place of her own somewhere else.”

“Meanwhile, we were trying to see if we could get you some help involuntarily, since you wouldn't go on your own. I'd imagine once you start spreading that crap of yours, the involuntary part will come along pretty quickly, don't you?” I finished and stood back, waiting. And maybe smirking a little bit.

“I'm willing to bet your company wouldn't want it known that one of their reps was losing her grip on reality, either,” Connie added calmly, catching on nicely. Rita's face flushed.

“You can't threaten me!” she retorted.

“Why not?” I asked. “You threatened us just now. How's it feel, by the way?”

“But I would be telling the truth!” she shot back, and seemed to take strength from that.

“As far as you're able to tell truth from fiction these days,” I said with a sad tone of voice. Fake, of course. “We're really concerned about you, but can't find a way to help you. It's a shame, really. You're not a bad person, just. . .confused. That's all.” At that point I stopped play acting.

“You breathe a word against us Bubbly, and we'll bury you. You'll be lucky to stay out of the nut-house, let alone keep your cushy job. Got that?”

Red faced and trembling in anger Rita stormed away, walking outside. I followed to the door to make sure she didn't try and molest the van or trailer but she got into her car and screeched away.

“Let's get this done and away from here,” Connie said sadly into the silence. “She's lost it.”

Twenty hard minutes later Connie made a final walk though, making sure she had everything. That done, we left, her going to work and me back to the house to leave the trailer.

I left the van and trailer at home and took Big Baby to get the stuff we needed. We never did see Rita again after that. No idea what happened to her, to be honest. Maybe she made a relief center somewhere. If they were still working. The one person we'd tried to help, and that was the thanks we got. See what I mean? How can you help people when the world responds like that? I wish I could say she was an exception, but. . .she's not. If you present a problem to someone and it's out of their comfort zone, they'll like as not turn it around on you.

And that's probably why the world went to hell in a hand-bag, you know?

*****

I made it back home just in time, since the Fed-Ex guy rolled into the yard less than thirty minutes after I got back with the seed and other items. It wasn't the regular guy I noticed and soon learned why. Almost the entire truck was filled with just our two orders.

“You folks getting ready for the End Times?” the guy asked, laughing. I joined him.

“No, something worse,” I told him. “Summer camp.” He joined me in a good laugh as I helped him unload the goods into my garage. “Just leave it here,” I told him. “Won't be here long.”

“Well, I guess you're set then,” he said when we finally finished, offering me the signing doo-hickey. I signed and handed it back.

“Yeah. Hopefully we won't have another round of mumps and measles this year,” I added, shaking my head. “Dealing with kids you never know what you're gonna get. Thanks for getting this here so fast.”

“Name of the game,” the driver nodded, returning to his truck. “Have a good week-end!”

“You too!” I called back. “Drive safe!” He waved once more and then headed out. I watched him go, proud of my act. I guess it's a little deceptive of me, but I really didn't want people asking too many questions. I might not want to answer them.

I got a tarp and covered the boxes over completely. My small shop was now a thing of the past until and unless we moved all this stuff. I wanted to make sure we could get the van inside the garage in case of emergency. Say we got surrounded by zombies, then we could at least get to the van safely, and maybe escape. Last resort, of course, but no sense in taking chances.

With all the orders in, all the supplies on hand, fence checked and strengthened, fuel tanks filled and so on, it was time to tackle the cistern. I hated the thought of it but it had to be done. As a result I spent the rest of the day pumping the stagnant water out, blowing it dry (leaf blowers are great), and painting the floor and walls with the same paint used on swimming pools. It was treated with some kind of 'safe' chemical, probably chlorine, that was supposed to keep algae from growing on the surfaces. It had cost a small fortune so I hoped it worked.

While the paint was drying I checked my gutter system. They were surprisingly clean and clear of obstruction. I wouldn't use the gutters unless and until we lost the city water supply, but if that happened then we'd be glad to have the water it provided. Meanwhile I had a rain collection system of barrels and tanks already and used that water for the yard, the garden, and washing my vehicles.

By the time that was finished the day was beginning to wane and I was filthy. It had been a long day. I checked the cistern and found the paint was nearly dry. I closed it off but left the vent open to allow the paint fumes to escape. It was screened so there wasn't much risk of anything getting inside. I had planted citronella plants around the cistern to keep down mosquitoes and so far they had worked well. Smart huh? Okay, I read about it online. But still, I did the work. Besides, there's nothing wrong with learning from other people so long as they aren't idiots.

Or liberals.

Anyway, I was tired and in need of a shower so I headed inside. I set some steaks out of the freezer though I didn't know for sure what Connie might want to do for supper. I was sort of floating along right now. She was living in my house and we had an honest to goodness date tomorrow night, but. . .calmly, Drake. Calmly.

I really didn't want to mess things up. There was no such thing as too slow where she was concerned. Not at this point. She knew I wanted her, but hell every straight man she'd ever met wanted her. She also knew by now that I wanted more than that, and maybe that was the difference. I sure hoped so. She literally took my breath away.

I got cleaned up and changed, then headed out into the living room. Connie was pulling into the yard as I stepped outside, and smiled when she saw me. That was enough to keep me going another day right there. She looked tired but otherwise okay.

“How was your day?” she asked and even gave me a little peck on the cheek. Heaven!

“Went very well and just got better,” I smiled. “Food's here, in the garage. Cistern is ready, gutters are too, and the seed, fertilizer and other odds and ends are unloaded and put away.”

“Wow, you really got things done didn't you?” she smiled again. “Nothing like a hard working man,” she sighed a little, and I felt my feet levitate off the floor. She had to know the effect she was having on me. Not that I cared.

“Well, better to get it done and over with,” I said honestly. “I like my loafing time as much as the next man, but I loaf better when the work's all done.”

“Smart man,” she nodded. “Let me get cleaned up and changed. How about we go out, tonight? I don't know about you, but I could use a good steak and maybe a trip to the mall to walk around and look at the world.” She looked at me seriously. “Might not get many more chances to do something like that if this thing gets out of hand.”

I admitted that was true, and agreed it was a good idea. I put the steaks I had laid out back in the freezer, figuring they would be there another time. Forty-five minutes later Connie walked out of her room looking like a model on the runway. My mouth tried to water and go dry at the same time, leaving me choking and coughing.

“Are you okay?” she asked, smirking a little.

“Fine,” I croaked back. “Just fine.”

*****

We hit the town quietly but with eagerness. First order of the night was Connie's good steak. We dined quietly, no talk of any zombies, Rita, the possible end-of-the-world, nothing like that. Connie told me a little bit more about herself, about her time with Doctors Without Borders. She really was nothing short of amazing.

When it was my turn I had nothing so interesting to share. I had worked my way through college by doing what was known as contractor work. I guess I never mentioned what I did for a living, did I? My bad. I'm in computers. Sort of a fireman for computer systems. During summer breaks and slow times, I picked up unofficial money by working for companies that were contracted to Uncle Sam. Sometimes I cleaned up systems that had been attacked by foreign countries, sometimes I returned the favor. The pay for things like that was surprisingly good and almost always 'off the record', which was govspeak for 'cash'.

Now I worked for a private firm that structured system security for some of the largest corporations in the U. S. and Canada. Sometimes I had to travel a lot, but it was always on the company's dime and I had seen some really nice places that I'd otherwise probably never gotten to see. I'd made a good living over the last decade. I'd miss it if the world went to hell. All that work to get somewhere.

Anyway, we had a good time getting to know one another better. After dinner we went on to the mall. Usually the mall was one of those places I wouldn't be seen dead, but. . .Connie wanted to go, and that meant that I wanted to go, too. Know what I mean? I know, I know, and you're right. What can I say though?

The mall wasn't overly crowded like it usually seemed to be. I mean there was a good crowd there, don't get me wrong, it just didn't seem like the wall-to-wall people that I usually saw when I had to come here.

We made a round on the first floor before taking the escalator upstairs. Connie had her arm through mine, which added at least three inches to my height and earned me a mall full of admiring looks from the men who got a good look at her. Ah, me. I was getting my man card filled with all this public attention.

We were about half-way down the second floor when my phone buzzed gently in my pocket. I almost ignored it, but decided to check since it might be important. My house alarm sent an alert to my phone when it activated after all.

It wasn't my alarm.

I had set several e-mail alerts for key words and phrases to monitor from news sources. I had gotten a hit. I pulled Connie over to the side, finding a place in the open doorway of a Dillards that kept the crush of people off of us, and opened the alert.

One of the 'isolated' villages in Europe, this one in Germany, had been filmed by an enterprising news crew that had apparently gotten wind that something was wrong in Denmark. Well, Germany. I already used that pun didn't I? Sorry.

Anyway, they had hiked in after getting close on snowmobiles, and set up on a ridge overlooking the town. I can't recall the name of the place, but it looked like a permanent Oktoberfest kind of place, you know?

Well, it
had,
anyway. Connie and I huddled around the small screen of my phone and watched the video. Apparently this had been a real news team, because the video was clean and clear and the narration was pretty good. Not that we needed it after they finally got the camera on the town center.

It was like that video from Spain all over again, writ larger. This German town was pretty good sized, maybe ten, fifteen thousand people, and it looked like most of them were sick. Or whatever this was. I really didn't know, to be honest. Whatever they were, the town was wrecked. Several fires were burning across the town's skyline. And despite the official statement that utilities had been interrupted by the rock slide/avalanche/freak ice storm/whatever else the powers that be had come up with, the lights were definitely still on in this town.

As the video played we could see flashes below, and the camera operator zoomed in on those. After some movement to search the area, the camera steadied up on three uniformed figures dressed in military gear and carrying what looked like GS-3 rifles, at one time the preferred rifle of the West German forces and later the reunified German Wehrmacht. They were a little long on tooth for modern times but were likely still in use in their reserves, and civilian models were probably available.

BOOK: Friggin Zombies
5.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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