“Where to?” VGRF asked.
“You know where, babe,” I replied.
VGRF took a right onto Pondmore Road and from there it was smooth sailing. An occasional zombie would take interest, but they were no match for a skilled driver.
Five minutes later, VGRF pulled up to a box shaped building. The sign on the front read:
Decrepit Oaks
Our Seniors Put the “Do” in “Can-Do!”
“You’re going to risk our lives for your old ass aunt?” Blandie asked.
“You know, Aunt Gertie used to talk about you all the time,” I said.
Blandie perked up. “Really? What did she say?”
Aunt Gertie – Dead, missing, or zombified?
“That you’re shallow, materialistic and when it comes to relationships, you care more about what a man looks like than what he’s got going on inside.”
“And that’s a problem…why?”
“I give up, Blandie,” I said. “If you want to stay in the car, fine, but I need to check to see if the woman who raised me is still alive.”
“Fine. I’m coming.”
I got out and Bernie passed Alien Jones to me. The little guy was still exhausted from shooting a force field out of his body, so we were on our own for the rest of the day. I threw him over my shoulder like he was an extra bag. He didn’t weigh that much at all.
The gang grabbed our gear and we entered the old folks home.
Decrepit Oaks wasn’t so much a nursing home as it was an apartment building for old timers. It catered to elderly folk who were still active, but needed some help with meals, cleaning, and so on. I’m not sure my aunt even needed to live there but that’s what she wanted. There were times when I thought Gertie might live long enough to bury us all.
Bernie and VGRF shined their flashlights. The place was deserted. Oddly though, everything appeared to be in immaculate condition.
We headed down the hallway to the residential section.
“Yo, y’all need to be hella careful,” Bernie said. “Some of these damn old peeps might look just like zombies. You don’t wanna gank an old ass human by accident.”
“That’s partially accurate and partially offensive, Bern,” I said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“What’s her number?” VGRF asked.
“Forty-nine.”
We walked and walked. Along the way, a few apartment doors had been left open.
I peeked inside each one of them. They were all nice and neat, beds freshly made, everything in order.
“Maybe they were able to evacuate in time?” VGRF asked.
“I hope so,” I said.
We reached forty-nine. Gertie had given me a spare key. I found it on my ring and opened the door.
The place was a mess. The coffee table was turned up on its side. Broken glass pieces were strewn everywhere. A lamp was shattered on the floor.
From the bathroom came a loud moan. I put Alien Jones down on Gertie’s bed, drew my gun, pointed it at the door, and nodded to Bernie, bidding him to open it.
Sure enough, a zombie ran out. He’d once been a young man, late twenties, in combat fatigues. Whoever he was, he was out of place at an old folks home. I exploded his head with one shot.
Zombie attack!
I borrowed VGRF’s flashlight and entered the bathroom. The floor and walls were soaked with blood. In the tub, there was a ripped apart corpse. It was so badly disfigured that it was unrecognizable.
VGRF put her hand on my shoulder.
“Is it…”
“I…I don’t know. God I hope not.”
Bernie picked up the Esteemed Brainy One and carried him for me for awhile.
“What now?” my friend asked.
“This place looks pretty safe,” I said. “Let’s clear all the rooms to be sure, lock the building up, then pick a room and spend the night. We’ll consult Alien Jones on what to do next when he wakes up.”
“I can’t stay here,” Blandie said. “This whole place reeks of bengay and depression.”
“Then feel free to…”
“I know, I know,” Blandie said. “Wait in the car. Fine. Lead the way.”
An hour later we finished checking all the apartments and after discovering the building was zombie free, we locked the front and back doors, took over apartment one, the unit closest to the front door in case we had to make a break for it, and settled in.
“You guys get some sleep,” I said as I took a seat on the couch. “I’ll take first watch.”
Bernie stepped out of the bedroom and made some googly eyes at Blandie.
“The bed’s big enough to share if you catch my drift.”
“I’ll rip off any part of you that touches me, nerd,” Blandie said as she walked into the bedroom and slammed the door in Bernie’s face.
“Shoties be trippin’ yo,” Bernie said.
He crashed on the floor.
VGRF snuggled up into my arm nook.
“Are you going to call another zombie author now?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied, “And a plot this thick requires not just any zombie author, but one of the most legendary zombie masters of all time!”
Bookshelf Battle 