Love in the Time of Zombies (4 page)

The
junkie guy didn’t answer, but he definitely heard him.  His face snapped around
like a wild animal’s, his tilted at an impossible angle.  He started towards
them.

Zeke’s
eyes narrowed.  “What the hell is this now?”  He asked, almost to himself.  “Why
does he smell dead?”

“Wait.”
 Scotlyn grabbed hold of Zeke’s sleeve as he stepped forward to meet the guy,
anyway.  She didn’t smell anything, but the trespasser fixed his blank gaze on
them and she just… knew.  It didn’t make any sense, but in that heartbeat she
knew
and she didn’t question it.

The
man wasn’t human.

Scotlyn’s
palm slid down to Zeke’s forearm, her fingers digging into his skin.  “Don’t go
near him.”  It was the first time she’d ever initiated any contact between them. 
The first time
she’d
ever touched
him
.  “Something’s wrong.”

Zeke
looked her hand in surprise and then back to the trespasser.  She could tell
from the tension in his body that he believed her.

Which
was good, because Scotlyn was beginning to realize the problem was even bigger
than just the whatever-the-hell that guy-was.  There were more of them milling
around.  A lot more.  As her eyes adjusted and she looked around, she spotted at
least twenty in the open expanse of desert behind the golf course.  A few of
them wandered over to cling onto the chain link fence that surrounded Zeke’s property,
shaking it as they tried to find a way through.

“Alright,
tell me I’m drunk and I’m not really seeing that.”  Zeke whispered fiercely.

“I’m
sure you
are
drunk, but we
both
totally see it.”

Someone
burst of out the all-night laundromat next door, screaming like he’d seen
straight into hell.  He leapt through a window, fleeing from whatever was
inside and shattering the glass.  Somehow staying on his feet, apparently
through pure panic and the pin-wheeling of his arms, he took off into the
not-so-empty desert.  Instantly, the stumbling figures were upon him.  They
dragged shrieking man to the sand and seemed to start…

Eating
him.

“
Oh
my God!
”  Scotlyn shouted.

“Let’s
go
.”  Zeke moved his hand to grip her wrist and tugged her backwards.

Scotlyn
let him pull her away.  There was nothing they could do for dead man.  Zeke was
right.  They had to get out of there.  “What are we…? 
Shit!
”

The
trespasser lunged forward, his arms outstretched, clawing at them.  He moved so
fast.
  This close, Scotlyn could see he was wearing a cheap suit and a
tie with the
Peanuts
characters on it.  She could also see that it wasn’t
drool dripping from his mouth.

It
was blood.

Zeke
shoved Scotlyn behind him, raised the gun, and shot the creature three times in
the chest.  The whatever-it-was kept coming.

Oh
God
.

“Get
inside!”  Zeke roared.  “Go, now!”  He shot it again, this time in the knee,
trying to slow its advance.  It stumbled, emitting an animalistic screech and
continued limping after them.

“Son-of-a-
bitch
.” 
Zeke aimed for its other knee.

“Head!” 
Scotlyn shouted.  “In zombie movies, you always have to aim for the head!”

He
obligingly shifted the muzzle and put the last two bullets right into its
skull.  The creature toppled over onto hole five, which was shaped like the
backseat of a ’57 Chevy convertible.  With one last convulsive twitch it
finally lay still.

Zeke
slowly lowered the revolver.  “So, you think they’re zombies, huh?”  He got out
in an eerily calm voice.  “That’s a new one.”

“I
don’t know what they are.”  Scotlyn was beyond processing anything.  All she
could go was stare at the body.

“What
else
could
they be?”

Scotlyn
realized she was shaking.  All around them now, she could hear people screaming
and the horrible groaning of the creatures.  She looked up at Zeke and
swallowed hard.  “What are we going to do?”

“Find
more bullets.”

Bright side
to the zombie apocalypse:

No more
parking tickets.  Ever.

Ezekiel
Macready was a paranoid bastard.  He’d been raised that way.  Zeke prepped for
all sorts of disaster scenarios, from earthquakes to robberies to attacks by human
zealots.  Everywhere he went, he made sure he had some basic supplies handy to
protect against a thousand catastrophes.

But,
he’d never considered zombies.

All
the bizarre creatures he’d encountered in his life and he’d never even
heard
of an actual zombie.  He’d spent years researching legends, but zombies had
always
been a myth.  He now totally accepted that they were real, though.  Totally
accepted it and was totally ready to wipe them out of existence.  Macreadys
were good at adapting to new enemies on a moment’s notice.  It was all that
kept the pack alive most days.

Zeke
headed for his office, turning off all the lights in Topless Golf World as he
went.  They would just draw attention.  “We have to get out of here.”  He
flipped his couch onto its back.  A stack of
Blade
comic books slid to
the floor and, for once, he didn’t worry about damaging their condition.  He
ripped out the black netting underneath the sofa.  “Here.”  He pulled out a
duffle bag that had been hidden inside.  “Hold that.”

Scotlyn
caught it, frowning at the weight.  “No wonder that damn sofa is always so
lumpy.”  She hovered in the doorway.  “What are you even doing?”

“Getting
supplies.”  Zeke headed over stand on the lower shelf of his bookcase,
dislodging the whole fellowship of
Lord of the Rings
action figures.  He
reached up to knock out one of the acoustical tiles in the ceiling and pulled a
metal box from its hiding spot.  “Don’t lose that.”  He handed that to her and
hopped down.  “If you plan on packing anything, do it now.  Because we’re not
coming back.”

Scotlyn
stared up at him for a beat.  “All I need is my purse.”  She finally said and
Zeke realized she trusted him to get them out of this mess.

Damn
it, why would she do something that dumb?

Scotlyn
wasn’t even supposed to
be
here.  She was just killing time until she married
a yuppie asshole and went off to live happily-ever-after in some high-priced condo
that was guarded by a doorman specially trained to keep people like Zeke off
the steps.

Scotlyn
was a girl who wouldn’t sleep with a guy unless he was
special
.  Who
worked hard every day, even though Zeke would’ve paid her bushels of diamonds
to do nothing but show up and talk to him.  Who was a different species than
Zeke in every imaginable way.

But,
from the moment he first saw the frustratingly virtuous little human, Zeke had wanted
her.

All
day, every day, he obsessed over her lush body and delightfully bossy ideas.  He
wanted her with him.  Wanted to be able to talk to her and keep an eye on her. 
It annoyed Zeke every time she left the golf course and was out of his sight.  If
she ever carried through with her threats to quit, he had no idea what he’d do. 
Zeke had always been a dreamer and Scotlyn was every dream he’d ever had.

His…
attachment to this girl had been a problem from the beginning and now it had
reached a head.  He prided himself on never needing anyone.  Zeke was also a
survivor.  He took care of himself.  It was the only way to go through life. 
Unencumbered.

Now,
zombies were invading and he knew what he
should
do.  He should kiss
Scotlyn good-bye and save himself.  Self-preservation had always come easy to
Macreadys.  You left behind anyone who couldn’t keep up.  It was the first rule
of their life.  Zeke was certainly nobody’s hero.  He took pride in his Black
Hat status.

But
when Scotlyn looked up at him, her eyes the color of the green glass bottles in
retro Coca-Cola ads, and all Zeke’s arguments faded into nothing.

This
soft, sweet little creature wasn’t supposed to be his.  He knew that.  She
deserved better.  She was a liability in a combat situation and likely target
for all sorts of badness.  He knew that, too.  The logical play would absolutely
be to cut her loose and evac on his own.

But,
when had anyone
ever
accused Zeke Macready of being logical?

He
headed over to take the duffle bag from her and slung it over his shoulder. 
“You stay right by my side or directly behind me, got it?  If I go down, you
run like hell away from me.”

“Yeah,
but…”

“I’m
the boss.  Follow orders or you’re never going to get that raise you’ve been
pushing for.”  Zeke stalked back into the lobby, unzipping the duffle bag as he
went.  He was going to die because he wouldn’t leave this human.  There wasn’t
a doubt in his mind.  Dying with her seemed a hell of a lot better than living
without her, though.

Scotlyn
was his person.

He
suddenly saw it so clearly that he realized he must have seen it all along.

“Grab
your stuff and let’s go.”  Zeke pulled a sawed-off from the bag and checked to
make sure it was loaded.  There was nothing he could do but accept the fact that
he was doomed, and focused on protecting her.

“Jesus.” 
She gaped at him.  “How many guns do you have around here?”

“It’s
a bad neighborhood.”  Satisfied, he snapped the shotgun closed and began
filling up his pockets with extra shells.  “We’re taking my truck.  The zombies
will just laugh at that ridiculous yellow thing you drive.”

“There’s
nothing wrong with a Vespa.”  That was her standard defense of the God awful
scooter and she seemed to say it automatically.  “They’re very environmentally
friendly.”

“Not
when the environment is filled with monsters.”  He tossed her the keys to his
SUV.  “When we get out there, you head right for the driver’s seat.  I will
clear your path.  Got it?”

“Got
it.”  She agreed and leaned over the computer.  “Let me just power down the
system.”

“Are
you kidding?  Who the hell cares about the computer system?”

“All
our records are on here!”

“Who
the hell cares about the
records?
  Christ, TGW is closed until further
notice, Trix.”  A choice between the stupid golf course and Scotlyn’s safety
was the easiest decision in the world.  He’d only kept the damn place because
it allowed him to keep
her
.  Once he’d realized Scotlyn and Topless Golf
were connected, it had been very clear that small business ownership was for
him.  “Drop everything.  We’re leaving. 
Now
.”

She
made a frustrated sound, her valedictorian work ethic obviously annoyed with
the fact that
The Night of the Living Dead
was jeopardizing her
routine.  “Fine.”  She grabbed her purse and slipped the metal box inside, looping
it over her shoulder.  “Do you have any idea where we’re going?”  She stalked
back to him.

“Away
from the zombies.”  Zeke could see them trying to get through the fence in the
back.  Out front, people were running in every direction, shouting and fighting
for their lives.

Goddamn
it, this was going bad fast.

“Maybe
we should just stay in here.  Maybe the army or somebody will show up and shoot
the…”  Her lips pressed together and she trailed off.  “There are
things
outside, Zeke.  How am I supposed to process that there are
things outside?
”

Humans
were always oblivious to the creatures who walked among them.  Zeke knew that better
than anyone and even he was stunned by this new twist.  For Scotlyn, it all had
to be a nightmare.

“I
don’t know, but I know we can’t stay here.”  Someone ran from the tattoo parlor
across the street and Zeke realized the guy had set the whole building on
fire.  He could see zombies moving inside, illuminated by the flickering
flames.

“It
was the pink stuff.”

“What?”

“Is
the distance, you can some kind of pink mist.  I think it caused this.”

Shit. 
If it was airborne, they had bigger problems than the zombies themselves.

“Let’s
work the problem, Trix.  Wherever they came from, they’re here now.  That means
we
can’t
be.  We’ll freak out later.”

“You’re
right.  I know you’re right.  We’ll go now and we’ll freak out later.  We have
to go.”  Her gaze met his and he saw she was scared.  “Just… don’t leave me.”

Zeke’s
heart turned over in his chest.  “Scottie, if I’m not right behind you, it’s
because I’m dead.”  He paused.  “Or
un
dead.”

“You
have
such
a lousy sense of humor.”

Actually,
Zeke wasn’t finding this situation particularly funny.  He was just gratified
Scotlyn was back to looking pissed rather than frightened.  He carefully eased opened
the front door, his eyes on his black SUV parked just outside.  Always taking
the closest spot wasn’t
just
about discouraging and inconveniencing his
annoying customers.  Zeke liked to have fast exit routes handy.  “On the count
of three, run for the car.  I won’t let anyone near you.”