Best New Zombie Tales: Vol. 1 Part 7

"Let's get out of here fast," Kirk said, and they turned and hurried out with Liz in the lead and Natalie stumbling between them, her sungla.s.ses askew.

"Are you sure n.o.body's looking?" Kirk said.

"I don't even see anybody at this end of the parking lot," Liz said.

They stood at the rear of the Camry with the trunk open.

"Okay," Kirk said to Natalie, "get in there. Go on, get in."

Natalie clumsily got into the trunk.

"Head down," Kirk said. As soon as her head was down, he slammed the trunk.

Before they got into the car, Liz sprayed the cab with the air freshener. Instead of masking the smell of Natalie's decay, the potpourri aroma simply combined with it to create a new odor that was no less offensive. Inside, Kirk sat forward in the backseat with his head between the two front seats, and they looked at each other in silence for a long moment. Liz started laughing first, but Kirk and Randy caught it almost immediately, and it took a few minutes for them to stop.

"f.u.c.k, I love Vicodin," Randy said.

"Where do we go next?" Liz asked.

Kirk frowned. "I don't know. That was my back-up plan. I don't have any more ideas. I can't just... turn her loose on people. Not if she's going to try to eat them."

"And what if it's contagious, like in the movies?" Randy said. "We'd have a zombie plague on our hands."

"I have a plan," Liz said. She started the car, backed out of the parking slot, and started driving.

"What's the plan?" Kirk said.

"You'll see."

She drove them to Baskin & Robbins. "I've got an ice cream craving," she said.

"That's your plan?" Randy said.

"Hey, as long as we're high, we might as well enjoy it."

They went inside and ordered bowls of ice cream. They sat at a table in the back corner.

"We need ideas," Kirk said.

They ate in silence for several minutes.

"Oh, s.h.i.t," Randy whispered.

"What?" Kirk said.

"What if Natalie's banging on the trunk and calling for help? If somebody hears her, they'll call the police."

Kirk sighed. "I almost wish someone would call the police. I'd like to get it over with."

Liz said, "I say take her back to your place and let her eat the other weasel."

"Ferret."

"Whatever. Those f.u.c.kin' things give me the w.i.l.l.i.e.s."

"Maybe I can keep her in the pool-house one more night. If I can feed her. But what do I feed her?"

"Raw meat," Randy said. "Got any steaks at home?"

"Yeah, probably. But will she want that? She seems to like her food a little more... well, alive."

When they were done with their ice cream, they went back out to the car to find that Natalie was making no noise at all.

"The Vicodin's wearing off," Randy said.

"I've got twenty bucks," Liz said. "You guys got any money?" They said they did. She said, "Let's go see d.i.c.ky."

Kirk and Randy agreed a visit to d.i.c.ky Parks was in order. d.i.c.ky had gone to Anderson High School a couple years ago. He'd gone through his junior year twice when he finally dropped out. Everyone they knew got their drugs from d.i.c.ky, or from d.i.c.ky's father Wyatt, with whom he lived.

Kirk had known d.i.c.ky and Wyatt as long as he'd known Natalie, or most of his other friends at school. Natalie had tried to help him find a job after he dropped out of high school, but he had no ambition, and the fact was, d.i.c.ky wasn't very bright. Then they learned why he wasn't interested in a jobd.i.c.ky was selling drugs with his dad, and making good money at it. He always gave them a discount. d.i.c.ky had once told Natalie that they were the only people from school who treated him like a human being. "Most of 'em," he'd said, "they'll buy my s.h.i.t, but they won't even look at me to say hi at the mall."

Natalie had a way with people, all kinds of people. She was friendly to everyone and anyone. She belonged to no particular clique at school, but was accepted by all of them. She hated the way everyone grouped up socially at school and turned their backs on others, and she refused to partic.i.p.ate. Thinking of her made Kirk's chest ache. He thought of the stumbling creature in the trunk and missed Natalie all the more.

d.i.c.ky and Wyatt lived on a spot of land at the end of a long roadit was paved, but far too narrow for more than one vehicle at a timein an area known as Churn Creek Bottom just north of Anderson. They lived in a couple double-wide mobile homes that had been patched together. Their nearest neighbor was three-quarters of a mile away. Wyatt's shiny white 1965 Mustang was parked under a rickety-looking carport. The Mustang was Wyatt's most prized possessionsometimes it was a little creepy how much he loved that car. But d.i.c.ky's pickup truck was not there.

Wyatt came to the sliding gla.s.s door and smiled. "Hey, you guys. Come on in. d.i.c.ky's not here. I don't know when he'll be back. Could be any minute, could be midnight."

Wyatt was in his forties. He kept his head smoothly shaved and wore a goatee of black and white hair. He had a gut, but his tattooed arms were muscular. His voice was coa.r.s.e and loud, which some people interpreted as angerit was just the way he talked. He wore a white T-shirt, a pair of baggy blue sweatpants and sandals.

Kirk was surprised when Wyatt gave him a hug and slapped him on the back a few times. "Man, I am so f.u.c.kin' sorry about Natalie. I've been sick about it since I heard. She was a h.e.l.l of a girl and I'm gonna miss her."

"Thanks, Wyatt," Kirk said.

"Now, here's what I wanna do." Wyatt disappeared down a short hall for a moment and came back with a baggie filled with marijuana. "You know how, when somebody dies, all their friends bring gifts of food to the house? They bring ca.s.seroles and spaghetti and fried chicken and macaroni and cheese and potato salad and pies. Well, I can't f.u.c.kin'cook, so here's what I'm bringin'." He handed the baggy to Kirk. "That's a gift from d.i.c.ky an'me for all three a ya, so be sure to divide it up evenly, no favorites. That's the premium Wyattweed, too. Enjoy it in good health."

"Wow, Wyatt," Kirk said as he took the baggy taut with buds.

They spent the next ten minutes thanking him. They decided to have some, so Kirk opened the baggie and they smoked a little in one of Wyatt's bongs. Liz declined and said, "I'm driving, and I can't drive if I'm smoke weed. Got any Vicodin?" Wyatt said he did, and gave her two with a diet c.o.ke.

"Have they found Natalie's body yet?" Wyatt asked. "I read it got stole."

Kirk said, "I don't know."

"Neither do I," Randy said.

"Me, neither," Liz said.

"We didn't have anything to do with that," Kirk said.

"Well, course ya didn't," Wyatt said. "I's just wonderin'if they'd found her yet. That's a terrible thing, her gettin'stole like that."

Kirk nodded. "Yeah, we think it's pretty... sick."

They talked with Wyatt awhile longer, but d.i.c.ky never showed up. Kirk said they were planning to see a movie.

"Good idea," Wyatt said. "Get your mind off it all. Have a toke with your popcorn."

They spent another five minutes thanking him for the pot, then he walked them out to their car. They were just getting in when they heard the thumping.

"Hungry! Hungry!" The word was m.u.f.fled, but Kirk recognized it.

Wyatt said, "What the f.u.c.k was that?"

Liz dropped into her seat, pulled the door closed, slipped the key into the ignition, and started the car. Wyatt knocked a knuckle on Liz's window. She pressed the switch and sent the gla.s.s humming down.

"Who's in your trunk?" he said. Kirk started to get into the back seat on the other side of the car, but froze when Wyatt shouted, "Kirk, G.o.ddammit, who ya got in that f.u.c.kin'trunk?"

Kirk stepped away from the car and ran a hand through his hair.

"Tell him," Randy said. "Wyat'll keep it to himself."

"Keep what to myself?"

Liz rested her forehead on the backs of her hands on the steering wheel and said, "I wanna go home."

"What the f.u.c.k's goin'on here, guys?" Wyatt said. "Is d.i.c.ky involved in this, whatever the f.u.c.k it is?"

"No, no," Kirk said, shaking his head. He went to the rear of the car and said, "Okay, come on, Liz, open the trunk."

Thump-thump. Thump-thump-thump. "Hungry! I'm hungry!"

Liz killed the engine, got out, and joined Kirk. She unlocked the trunk and it popped open.

"Natalie wasn't stolen from the funeral home, Wyatt," Kirk said. "She walked out."

Natalie swayed a moment, then stood straight, her sungla.s.ses crooked. Kirk took the sungla.s.ses off her face and revealed her milky eyes sunken deep in their sockets.

Wyatt's reaction was almost comical. He slapped his right hand to his chest and staggered backward. He coughed for awhile, then laughed, then he stood still and stared with naked horror and disgust at Natalie, who kept tugging on Kirk's arm and saying, "Hungry. I'm hungry."

Kirk began to tell Wyatt the whole story. As Kirk spoke, Wyatt slowly came closer to them, a step or two at a time. Kirk was explaining what had happened to one of Mom's ferrets when Natalie pounced like a jungle cat.

She hit Wyatt and wrapped her arms and legs around him, and he stumbled backward. He fell hard on the rough lawn that grew in patches around the mobile home. Wyatt grunted when his back hit the ground, then gurgled and kicked and tried to pry Natalie off his body. A bright arterial spray arced in the air and spattered over the clumps of gra.s.s. Again and again and again.

It all happened so fast, but when Kirk moved to react, he felt as if he were moving slow, so slow. The blood continued to spurt from Wyatt's throat. His kicks slowed down until his legs were barely moving, and his arms fell still at his sides.

Kirk and Randy and Liz were rushing toward Wyatt and Natalie, but Kirk stopped suddenly and said, "No, wait. We shouldn't go near the body."

"What if he's not dead?"

The spray of blood had stopped. So had any movement. Natalie made sloppy chewing sounds as she buried her face in Wyatt's throat.

"Don't go near the body. Let's go back to the car and just... wait."

"Wait?" Randy said. "What the f.u.c.k are we waiting for?"

"For Natalie to finish eating."

Liz got back in the car, put her elbows on the steering wheel and her hands over her ears. Kirk and Randy paced slowly together and avoided looking in Natalie's direction. But they could still hear her.

She had ripped off Wyatt's T-shirt and chewed into his belly. Now she was smacking her lips sloppily as she ate, but they did not want to know what she was eating, so they did not look.

"G.o.d, I hope d.i.c.ky doesn't get here before we leave," Kirk said.

"I can't believe we let her do this," Randy said. His voice was hoa.r.s.e with emotion. "I really liked Wyatt."

"You think I didn't? There was nothing we could do, Randy. If you're spurting blood three or four feet into the air from your neck, it's over. It didn't take long, either. She tore his throat out. She just bit down and"

"Stop, I know, I was there, remember? Look, I've been thinking. What if we bury her?"

"Alive?"

"You can't bury her alive, Kirk, she's dead."

"Yeah, I know, but... the way she is?"

"What do you wanna do, load her up with NyQuil?"

"I don't know, I... I-I-I..." Kirk stopped pacing and took a deep breath. "Do you realize we're talking about a girl who, at this very moment, is eating the guts out of a friend of ours? I liked Wyatt, too. What are we going to"

"No, she's not," Randy said.

"What?"

"Listen. She's not eating anymore."

They turned to her slowly. Natalie was lying on her back on the gra.s.s a few feet away from Wyatt's gutted corpse.

"Natalie?" Kirk said. "Are you ready to go home?"

An enormous farting sound came from her direction. Several seconds later, she sat up. "Home," she said as she got to her feet. She walked unsteadily toward them.

"Wait a second," Kirk said. "She can't get in the car like that. She's covered with blood."

"What? You want her to wash up?"

Kirk looked around until he spotted a garden hose curled up at a front corner of the mobile home. A green spray-nozzle was attached to the end of the hose. He went to Natalie and said, "Hold it, stand right there. Don't move." He got the hose.

As he hosed her off, Natalie did not make a sound, but wore an expression of shockeyes clenched shut, mouth yawning open. When he tried to wash the blood off her face, the water's pressure was strong enough to completely collapse Natalie's nose.