Floodwater Zombies (4 page)

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Authors: Sean Thomas Fisher,Esmeralda Morin

BOOK: Floodwater Zombies
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“After I helped you unload your U-haul on Saturday, I ran into her at Target.”

 

“Really?”

 

Woody met his narrow gaze. “You should’ve seen the look on her face when I told her you were back in town.”

 

Laura inhaled sharply. “I told you!” she said smugly, popping a Lean Pocket into the microwave.

 

Rory cast a sideways look her direction and turned back to Woody. “What’d she say?”

 

“What didn’t she say? It was like twenty-questions, dude, and here I was all sweaty and just wanting to grab a frozen pizza and some ice cream real quick.”

 

“See?” Laura smiled. “She doesn’t really like that Hutch character.”

 

“Clutch,” Woody corrected.

 

She fanned a hand through the air at him and punched some button on the microwave, producing a series of beeps that sounded like Morse code. “Whatever.”

 

“Anyway, she was all like,
How
long is he going to be back? Is Danielle with him? How’s he doing?
” he rattled off in a high-pitched voice. “I’m
tellin
you, man, tonight
is
your night.” He grinned, flashing his pearly whites again.

 

Rory let his gaze wander out the French doors, trying to convince himself that ship had sailed. He wouldn’t give her the chance to pull the football out from under him again. That was the last thing he needed right now. Besides, even if he wanted to, he couldn’t even afford a movie, let alone dinner and drinks. He was better off just focusing on getting back on his feet, regardless of how terminally hopeless that seemed.

 

“Just no cell phones; that’s the new rule,” Woody said, returning his attention to his cell phone.

 

Rory’s eyes jerked over to him, his face wrinkling in disgust. “What?”

 

“I know it sounds scary but you actually have to talk to people face to face out there.”

 

Rory stared at him, his mouth agape. “Are you nuts?”

 

Laura chuckled. “I think you’ll manage,” she said. “Besides, if some masked man with a knife shows up, just think how much more of a challenge it’ll be.”

 

Woody looked up from his phone and gulped loudly. “There’s not much reception out there anyway, but that’s the new rule,” he said, returning to his phone.

 

“Who’s new rule?”

 

“The girls’, and don’t even think about breaking it. Two weeks ago, Kate caught Cliff with his phone in his tent and he woke up to find it lying in a puddle of beer.”

 

Rory laughed lightly. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

 

“You know she’s part hippie.”

 

“Well,
good
for Kate!” Laura said approvingly. “Look at you two right now, plugged into those things like some kind of bad
Syfy
movie. There’s a whole world out there going on around you and you don’t hear a word anyone says.”

 

Rory turned to her with a flummoxed face. “What’s that now?”

 

Her lips thinned.
“Very funny.”

 

“No, I’m serious. I didn’t hear a word you said; I just downloaded a new
lightsaber
app.”

 

 
Woody smiled, swiping his finger across his cell phone’s screen. “Truth is it’s actually
kinda
nice to unplug every once in awhile.”

 

Rory laughed loudly. “Easy for you to say, you know I have to play
Angry Birds
at least once an hour!”

 

Woody looked up from the glow of his screen. “Did you know that the guy who invented that game was a wrongly convicted murderer?”

 

Rory and Laura each arched an eyebrow at him. “What?” they said in unison.

 

Woody nodded. “New DNA evidence set him free.”

 

Rory’s brow folded.

Angry Birds
?”

 

Woody nodded again. “Think about it,” he said, glancing at Laura. “A bunch of birds
killin
all those
pigs
…”

 

They stared at him slack-jawed, the microwave beeping in the silence that followed.

 


Jailbirds
,” Woody said slowly.

 

Rory dropped his head and laughed. “Where did you hear that?”

 

“From Clutch, but seriously, dude, you can’t even bring
em
in the car.”

 

Rory studied Woody through perplexed eyes. “Bring what?
My phone?”

 

“Kate will totally search your stuff.”

 

“What if we have a car problem?”

 

“We’re taking two cars,” Woody said matter-of-factly. “This is old school camping, bro! I’m sure we’ll survive.”

 

Rory grunted and turned to his mom. “If this was a horror movie, those would be famous last words.”

 

Laura nodded rapidly, a tight smile gripping her face.

 

Rory leaned back and frowned. “Well, how am I supposed to make people jealous of my life if I can’t post anything on Facebook?”

 

Laura laughed. “The only person who’s going to be jealous of your life is a ten-year-old!”

 


Oooh
burn!”

 

Rory shook his head. “Funny.”

 

 
Woody glanced at his watch and uncrossed his leg. “Oh crap, we should probably get going. We have to hit Walmart and then meet everyone at Doc’s at two.”

 

“When are you coming back?” Laura asked, taking the plate from the microwave and setting it on the counter while Woody stole another glance of her butt as she pulled the white sleeve from the Lean Pocket and deposited it in the trash.

 

“Tomorrow afternoon,” he said blankly, admiring the way her black running pants hugged every inch of her slender body. She turned back around and Woody pretended he was messing with his phone.

 

“Make sure you are. We’ve got more storms rolling in tomorrow afternoon,” she said, bringing her lunch to the table and taking a seat with them. “Listen, I want to be serious with you boys about something for a minute,” she said gravely.

 

Rory and Woody looked up from their phones and found her sober eyes.

 

“Those woods out there by the lake are crawling with
lycan
so I want you to be extra careful.”

 

Rory and Woody traded glances. “
Lycan
?” they said together.

 

“Old man Hinkle saw one just last week out by the old visitor center,” she continued, spooning some yogurt into her mouth.

 

“Old man Hinkle? What is this,
Scooby Doo
?”

 

“Don’t make light of what you don’t understand, Rory!” she snapped.

 

He rolled his eyes and got up from the table. “I’m going to jump in the shower before she starts talking about the man who lives in the basement.”

 

Her eyes followed him out of the kitchen. “He just wants to be your friend!”

 

Rory waved a hand through the air and disappeared into the living room.

 
Woody returned his attention to Laura and hesitated before speaking again. “What the hell’s a
lycan
?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rory and Woody galloped down the stairs, their arms loaded with camping gear.

 

“Can you bring Scout inside before you leave?” Laura asked from the couch, leafing through a copy of
Shape
magazine. “I don’t want to get attacked by some knife-wielding pervert while I’m home alone.”

 

 

Riiiight
,” Rory said, crossing the living room and pushing the screen door open with his foot. Woody followed him out onto the front porch and down the steps, where they stepped into the sun-splashed day. It was warm for early June with white, fluffy clouds lazily drifting across the blue sky above; the kind of day where everything seemed more colorful than the one before it.

 

Woody let a tent and small backpack tumble from his arms into the trunk of his white Pontiac Grand Am parked in the double drive. “Man, your mom is morbid.”

 

Rory dumped his sleeping bag,
Thermarest
, and pillow next to Woody’s gear and ran a hand through his wet hair. “
Ya
think? I’m the one who grew up across the street from a funeral home. Remember?”

 

Woody reached up and slammed the trunk shut with both hands. “But she’s so hot! It’s all very confusing.”

 

“Okay, we’re not going down this road again.”

 

“I have got to hit that!”

 

Rory’s face grew rigid. “No, you don’t,” he said flatly.

 

Woody looked to the sky and let his eyes wander from focus. “And it’ll probably all start with an innocent foot massage…”

 

“No, it won’t.”

 

Woody laughed and slapped Rory in the arm. “Come on,
Ror
-dog, you can bang my mom.”

 

Rory’s face soured. “Your mom is sixty-seven.”

 

Woody leaned against the trunk and folded his thin arms across his chest. “Hey, if Rachel doesn’t work out there’s always Ashley. Or as I like to call her…
hood ornament
.”

 

Rory screwed his face up. “Does she still have herpes?”

 

Woody squinted at him. “I don’t think that ever goes away.”

 

“Ever?”

 

Woody shrugged. “Just don’t let her drink out of your cup.”

 

Rory nodded, dropping his gaze to the driveway and looking back up. “How’s Kate doing?”

 

Woody’s face slumped. “Oh no, that baby back rib is all mine, dude!”

 

Rory glanced across the street to a man getting out of a gold colored van with fancy stenciling swirling across its side. “You and Kate work together. Trust me,
Woods,
you don’t want to cross that line. Things will get creepy real fast.”

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