by Gayle Katz
She marched to the back of the basement and opened a hatch to the root cellar. A terrible stench came up from there. She carefully walked down the few steps. A soft moaning sound came from the back.
“Shut up!” she yelled, taking her hand and slapping something in front of her. It quickly quieted down.
zzz
Owen was worried about Charlie. Last fall they had gotten into a whole lot of trouble. He knew she could look after herself, but Stewart had gotten tricked into going to the Ivywood Mansion by zombies, then Charlie had followed and been captured too. The problem was that there were smart zombies, who were usually the leaders, and there were dumb zombies, the followers. But the humans who turned into zombies seemed to turn at difference paces. Until their brains fully declined, they could still think and reason to some extent. And that was what made zombies so dangerous. If only there were some sort of treatment, or even a cure.
But Owen wasn’t scientifically inclined. He’d discuss his ideas with Stewart later. However, he was good at being creative and a problem solver. He was also a truthsayer. Kind of like a zombie slayer, or zlayer, but with different abilities. He didn’t know all of his powers yet, but so far, he could affect people surrounding him into being honest and telling the truth. He could also do basic spells, like placing a protective salt barrier around a building.
Poor Stewart was now mentor to three teens. One mentor was supposed to only have one student, but for some reason, one other potential mentor was a jerk, and the other mentor had yet to appear.
Plus, he was confused as to how Principal Allan could be a potential mentor, as they were supposed to have morals and good values. Perhaps he couldn’t be a mentor for this very reason.
Owen got off the free train in downtown Portland. He headed straight to a pawnshop. He opened the door and peered in. The bell above the door rang, so he took a step inside.
Someone came out from the back. “Hi there,” said the woman. “How may I help you?”
“Hi. Some guy called Slim sent me.”
“Oh, that’s right,” she said. “Have you got the goods?”
Owen pulled a small plastic bag from his front pants pocket. “I do.” He slapped the package on the countertop. “Here ya go.”
The owner picked up the bag. Inside were three severed fingers. They were in the advanced stages of decomposition. Where the fingers had been cut from the hand, they should have been black. But instead, they glowed green.
“How curious,” said the owner.
“Yup,” said Owen. “I’m sure you can find a use for them.” He winked at her.
The shop owner opened up the register and counted out some cash. “Here it is. Five hundred dollars.”
Owen took the money and quickly pocketed it.
“Let me know if you find more,” the owner said.
“I will, but zombie parts are hard to find. Not a lot happening in Portland right now.”
“No? Well, let me know.” She pushed the cash register closed.
“Sure thing,” said Owen, leaving the shop and heading to the bus stop. He smiled as he left. Along the way, he bought a gift for Zan from one of the antique shops that was open late at night.
Chapter 2
________________________________________
Charlie rubbed her head. She couldn’t believe that she’d fallen for that a second time. She was usually so careful. Was it possible she was getting older and losing her zlayer abilities? She knew that happened, and the result was usually death, as the former zlayer could no longer protect herself. She hoped that wasn’t the case with her.
It was dark where she was. She felt something soft under her, like a couch or something. She wasn’t tied up, so she raised herself to a sitting position. The air smelled a bit damp and mildewy. She rubbed her head and then stood up.
Her eyes finally focused. She put her hands in front of her, until she hit a barrier.
“Where am I?” she mumbled to herself.
“In jail,” said a voice beside her.
Charlie shook. Then her eyes got used to the dark. “This seems to be happening a lot,” she mumbled. It appeared that she was in a small cell with another woman seated on the opposite end of a jail cell cot.
“So, what is this place?” she asked.
“The Portland Police Department.”
“What the?” Charlie asked.
“Yep. Nice and legal,” said the female voice.
Charlie walked back to the cot and sat down.
“Why am I here? I was hit over the head. Do the cops do that?” she asked.
“Well, no,” admitted the voice. “Say, by the way, I’m Miranda.”
“Hi, Miranda. I’m Charlie.” She reached around for her dagger, but it had been taken from her. She shrugged and hoped she didn’t need it.
“Hi,” she said.
“So, the police officer whacked me over the head?” Charlie asked, still confused.
“Hell, no,” said Miranda. “It was me who did that.”
There was silence.
“Wait, why did you hit me?” asked Charlie.
Miranda chucked. “Well, it seemed the best thing at the time, I guess. I wanted to talk to you.”
“Right,” said Charlie. She’d seen and heard worse things during her zlaying life. Some people were worse than the zombies. At times she wished that the zombies would just take over.
“Say, why’s it so dark in here?” asked Charlie.
“Well, you probably should know something,” said Miranda.
Just then, they heard footsteps coming down the corridor. The lights went on. The steps came closer. They belonged to a police officer. “Hi, ladies. Are you all settled in?” he asked.
Charlie grimaced, and then turned to face Miranda. “Holy crap!” she cried, jumping up, and then racing to the front of the jail cell. “You locked me in here with a zombie?”
“Well, yes,” explained the officer. “Because, I know you know stuff, and you can help.”
zzz
Stewart called Charlie, but there was still no answer. He called Zan and Owen, who both seemed rather abrupt with him. They claimed they were doing homework. The entire situation didn’t sit right with Stewart. Perhaps it was time to dissolve the team and start anew. That often happened with zombie fighting teams. Humans were human after all. They developed motives, were selfish, and changed their minds frequently. And that was just the teens.
He finally decided to head to Gran’s house to see if Charlie was actually there. He must make note of her cell phone number. It was sad that no one today had a landline telephone where you could look up the phone number in the white pages. He grabbed his coat and keys and left his apartment.
zzz
Owen was having a great time spending his cash. Before he went back home, he was sure he spent it all. He decided to give Zan a call.
“Hey, what are you up to?” he asked.
“Oh same old, same old,” she said, wiping a bit of blood off her lab coat. “What about you?”
“Same. You hear anything from Charlie?”
“No,” she said. “But if she’s locked up in a jail cell somewhere again, she’ll find a way to escape.”
“Yeah,” said Owen, feeling a bit better about the situation. “Do you think we should call the cops?”
“Nope. They were zero help when Tonia went missing.”
“Right. Well, guess what? I bought you a gift,” Owen said enticingly.
“Really? And it’s not even my birthday!”
“I know, right? But I remembered what you said to me in school last week. About you playing the guitar and all.”
Zan winced. He better not have bought her a stupid guitar pick. “Well, can you bring it to school tomorrow? I’m kind of busy with something here.” There was a crash in the distance.
“Sure,” he said. “Just thought I’d let you know.”
“Great,” she replied and hung up. Now to get back to what she was doing. She had a smirk o
n her face.
zzz
Owen smiled. She was going to love her gift. Owen was at the back of someone’s house, behind the garage. He peered around it. There was someone pacing back and forth. Owen glanced at his smartphone, and then put it in his pocket.
He slowly and quietly walked up to the person who was wandering back and forth. But, before he did anything, he had to be sure. He tapped them on the shoulder. The person whirled around. He was right. It was a zombie.
Owen whipped out a dagger and plunged it into the zombie’s left eye socket. The zombie tumbled to the ground.
“Got it!” said Owen triumphantly. He carefully dragged the body to the compost heap. He found a shovel and quickly dug. He then pushed the body inside. But, before he covered it up, he took one last souvenir. Then he shoveled in some compost debris, before carefully smoothing it over.
zzz
“Hey, girl. Are you going to kill that zombie for me?” asked the police officer.
“Say what?” said Charlie. She was worried. It was a bad idea to let a civilian watch a zlayer kill someone, even if it was a zombie.
“Say, don’t I know you?” she asked. “Right. You’re Sergeant Bourne. I knew I’d seen you before.”
“You got it,” he said. “I know these zombies have something to do with Tonia’s disappearance.”
“Oh, are you a loser or what?” she retorted. “It’s taken you five months to investigate the disappearance of that poor girl?”
“No, of course not,” he said. “I’ve been working the case for months. But none of my cohorts believe in zombies.”
Charlie looked worriedly at Miranda sitting next to her. She merely sat there, in fear.
“Oh, here’s your dagger back,” said Sergeant Bourne.
“Great, thanks,” said Charlie, slipping it into her back pocket.
He nodded at Miranda. Her face was a purple gray color. Her eyes slightly glowed green. Some of her fingers were missing. She had pushed herself into the corner of the jail cell.
“So? Are you going to do it?” he asked Charlie.
Charlie looked at Miranda, and then back at him. “She looks harmless,” she said. “Why don’t you do it? You’re the one with the gun.”
“Because,” he started explaining, “I think you’re a zombie slayer and that’s your job. I found a zombie in the back of your car. That’s why you’re here and not in the hospital at the moment. I saved you from Miranda, who attacked you from behind. I’ll bet she was going to eat you next.”
Charlie’s eyes grew round. She turned to Miranda and pulled out her dagger.
zzz
Stewart drove his car into the driveway, and then shut off the engine. There was a light on in the living room, despite the late hour. Gran must be waiting up for Charlie. He got out of the car, locking the door behind him, and then headed up to the front door.
The door swung open. “She hasn’t come home!” exclaimed Gran.
“I haven’t heard from her at all,” said Stewart. “I didn’t have your number, so I couldn’t call to find out if she’d come home.”
“Well, we’ll remedy that,” said Gran, pulling out her cell phone so they could exchange numbers. She invited Stewart to come inside and sit down.
“This is a nice house you have here,” he said.
“Yes, thanks. We came into a bit of money before moving here, so it’s helped provide some comfort for Charlie, since her parents died when she was young.”
“Yes, that’s sad. I’m trying to fulfill the role of father and mentor for her.”
“Oh, well she doesn’t need a father. She’s fine,” said Gran, straightening the crochet doilies that covered her armrest. “She does need a mentor though.”
Stewart smiled. “Well, sometimes she doesn’t listen.”
“I know,” she responded. They both had a good laugh.
“So, any chance you know where she went?” he asked.
“Not that I’m aware of. She was excited for our summer trip to Grand Cayman Island. She talked about you wanting the team to go to Seattle too.”
“We haven’t been working on any projects at the moment though,” said Stewart, grabbing a sweet from the bowl she held out. “Thank you. But obviously there is a loose thread hanging somewhere, as now she’s gotten herself into trouble again.”
“Is there another zombie outbreak?” Gran asked. “At the bingo hall yesterday, there was talk of some zombie sightings in town again.”
Stewart frowned. “I can’t see how that’s possible. The last zombie leader had no chance to bite anyone to create a new zombie leader. I mean, it’s possible there is one in Seattle, but they don’t leave the confines of their city, or else they die. The only possibility is if the Seattle zombie leader bit someone before dying, and then the new zombie leader moved here. No wait. That just doesn’t happen in one city so close together in time. Plus, if the zombie leader was killed, all the zombies up there would have perished and I know for a fact that there’s activity in Seattle. Nope, doesn’t make sense.”
Gran chewed on her toffee. “What if there is more than one way to create a zombie leader?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I know those zombies are smart, but I think that’s going a bit far.” He stood up. “Thank you for your hospitality. I’ve got to go.”
“Thank you for checking in,” she said. “And next time, just call, now that you have my number.”
Stewart headed to his car, and then decided to drive to Zan’s house to see what she was doing. She only lived a few blocks away, in a slightly more prestigious neighborhood. The difference was that her house was three times the size of Gran’s, and there was a longer driveway to the parking lot in front of the house.
Stewart locked up his car and headed to the front door and knocked.
“Yes?” asked a man who must be Zan’s dad.
“Hi, I’m Stewart George, biology teacher at Zan’s school. We have an incident with one of her friends going missing. I was wondering if she might be hanging out here?”
“No, I don’t think so, but I can get Zan for you. Have you called the cops yet?”
“Not yet, I wanted to check with her friends first.”
“I’ll go get her,” said her dad. “Please come in.” He opened the door further so Stewart could step in.
“Hey, Zan,” yelled her dad down the stairs, after opening up the door to the basement. “Your teacher is here!”
“What?” she called back.
“Just go down and meet her,” said her dad. “I hope you find the student.”
“Thanks,” said Stewart, heading down the stairs.
“Hey, no one is allowed to come down here!” yelled Zan.
Stewart could hear the frenzied sounds of objects being shuffled around. He also smelled some type of fragrance in the air. He wasn’t quite certain, but it almost smelled like something decomposed, like wet soil or mildew.
“Hey, Mr. George,” said Zan, looking nervously at him. Her eyes went back and forth, looking the place over.
“Oh, this is nice,” he commented. “It’s like you have your own lab here.”
“Yep,” she said, using her foot to close a drawer. “Got to have some peace and quiet to do my science homework.”
“Oh nice, you have the test tubes neatly arranged. Everything looks so clean in here.” He walked around the lab, while Zan had a proud but anxious grin on her face.
“Say, what’s in here?” asked Stewart, heading over to a closet on the far side of the room.
Zan smacked her cheek. She should have closed that door first while she had a chance. “Oh nothing, just more storage,” she explained.
Stewart went up and peered inside.
Chapter 3
________________________________________
Charlie was in the jail cell with Miranda, a zombie. But something didn’t feel right. Usually zombies weren’t quite so docile. She slowly walked up to her. All the signs were there.
“Ho
w long since you’ve had symptoms?” asked Charlie.
“Yesterday, I think,” said Miranda.
“Yesterday? And you’re not a full-blown zombie yet?”
Miranda shook her head.
“And, you’re not a zleader?”
She shook her head. “I don’t even know what that is.”
“Why did you come after me?” Charlie asked.
“Well, I was hungry,” she explained. “I have this strange taste for human brains, but then I hesitated after I attacked you, thinking I could just eat a raw steak instead. That’s when the cop grabbed me. He tossed us both in the back of his car.”
“I see,” said Charlie pacing. “Say, did he look in the trunk of my car?”
She nodded.
“And then?” asked Charlie.
“Oh right. He took the body out and put it in the trunk of his own car.”
Charlie smiled. “Good, that’s one less cleanup I have to do.”
“I feel so dead inside, like I’m struggling to bring my consciousness to the surface,” Miranda said. “Are you going to kill me?” she asked.
Charlie shook her head. “Something is not quite right here. What I think you need is medical attention. I think we need to break out.”
“I tried that,” said Miranda. “The walls are solid and the bars are tight. And there’s no window or duct.”
“Nah,” said Charlie, removing the brooch from her shirt. “I have this.” She flicked out the long sharp needle of her brooch and went up to the lock on the barred door. She had to work backwards, but soon the lock clicked and she was able to push the door open.
“Let’s go,” she said.
“OK,” said Miranda. “But I want a steak when we get out of here.”
“Deal,” said Charlie. “We can stop at the store.”
They quietly snuck down the hallway. Charlie found her car keys, cell phone, and her wallet just sitting on a desk. “Geez, this cop doesn’t know what he’s doing,” she mumbled. Then they headed upstairs.