by Gayle Katz
“Over here,” he called to her, as she wasn’t paying much attention. “You spend a lot of time on that thing.”
“I’m kind of like the transcriptionist,” she said. “I have to let someone know where I am. But,” she started to say.
“What is it?” he asked.
“My friend isn’t texting me back.” She felt sad.
“Maybe he hasn’t seen it.”
“No, he has. His icon showed up under my text.” She put her phone away.
“Then, what’s the problem?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not sure. He’s been a bit cranky with me lately.”
“Gee, I wonder why,” he said, sarcastically.
Zan followed after the cop, wondering why she had thought he was cute. Cops had attitude. That was annoying.
“Over here, in the back,” he said.
“It’s eerie out here, in the dark. I’ve only been here once before, when Dad had a bunch of junk to unload,” she said.
“Oh yeah?” he said. “OK, just inside this bin,” he said, grabbing hold of the lid and lifting it up.
Zan backed off in horror. A strong pungent smell was released into the air. She grabbed her sweatshirt and yanked it up past her mouth and over her nose. “Yuck!”
“Let’s be quick. I don’t want to have to explain to the police chief why I’m out here if we get caught. Just grab what you want.” He looked at her. She still had an expression of horror on her face. “Fine. Do you have a plastic bag?”
She nodded and pulled a large, re-sealable plastic bag out of her purse. He took it from her, then grabbed a stick from the ground and used that to carefully pull out what appeared to be a decayed hand. “Is that good enough?” he asked.
She nodded. She watched as he put it in the bag. “How do I know that’s a real zombie part and not a human?”
“You’ll have to do your tests and work that out for yourself, but chances are pretty good that this guy was a zombie in the past.”
“Yuck,” she replied. “So, the zombies just get tossed in that bin?”
He grimaced. “Yep. I think only one or two workers here know about it. I personally don’t want the extra case load having to ascertain their identities so for now, I’m tolerating it.”
Zan followed him back to the car. She was staring at his face intently.
“Hey. What’s up, kiddo?” he asked, a bit concerned.
“You remind me a lot of my brother,” she replied.
“I do? Is he still alive?”
She frowned. “Of course he is alive! Why wouldn’t he be?”
“Because your type usually has a lot of dead family around.”
“Whatever. He’s an adult and lives in Florida. I haven’t seen him for years. My parents are still mad at him because he became an engineer and not a musician.”
He got into the car. “Your parents are weird.”
She smiled and nodded. She sent a text to Owen telling him that she was on the way home, but there was still no reply.
zzz
The next day was a Saturday, so the team hung out at Stewart’s apartment.
“I just heard from Charlie and she’s doing well,” he said. “She and Gran will be back by Sunday night.”
“That’s great,” said Owen. “They make a great team!”
“I wish we were there, instead of here,” said Zan.
“Say, how’d your date go last night?” asked Owen, with a touch of jealously in his voice.
“Date? That wasn’t a date you dork!” She swatted him on the arm.
“Ow,” he said, laughing. “But you’re swooning over that cop.”
“No, I’m not!” she said.
Stewart looked at the teens, concerned about their behavior.
“He’s like old enough to be your grandfather. Besides, it’s inappropriate.” He looked away from her.
“It’s none of your business!” she said, raising her voice. “You don’t own me!”
Stewart handed them their drinks. “Hey, folks. Calm down.”
“Whatever,” said Owen. “I’m just being concerned, as a friend.”
“Really?” Zan said, glaring at him. “I won’t go on a date with you, but I’ll go on a date with a cop?”
“I really don’t think that was a date,” said Stewart, trying to get a comment in.
“I’m out of here,” said Owen. “Next time send your date plans to Stewart.” He got up and left the apartment.
“Wow, what was that about?” asked Stewart.
“Grr, makes me mad,” said Zan. “He thinks I like this cop guy and went on a date with him last night. The truth is that the cop guy is cute, but he reminds me of my brother, so that’s just wrong. Anyway, he was helping me gather materials for my next experiment,” she explained.
“You’d better tell him that,” said Stewart, finishing his drink.
“I will. I just get so emotional around him sometimes. Plus, he doesn’t own me. I owe him nothing.”
“Tell him that too,” said Stewart. “You’re at that awkward age, and interactions between the sexes are even more difficult than they were in my time.”
“Yeah, thanks,” she said, taking a refilled glass of soda from him. “This is why I told him that we’re too young to date.” She looked at Stewart, who smiled. “Yeah, I know. Tell him that,” she said, sighing.
“Any luck on the experiments?”
“I’ve started. I’m waiting for the centrifuge to do its job. Then I’ll make samples and check them under the microscope for tomorrow morning.”
“That’s great,” said Stewart. “If you can compare how the two different zombie strains are different, that would be great.”
“Well, I should go home. I’m supposed to have brunch with the family.” She got up from the couch. “Thanks for the snacks.”
“Oh, one more thing,” he said. “Jane, err, Mayor Cote, is doing another opening on Monday morning. I’d like you both there.”
“Cool,” she said, perking up. “What kind of opening is it?”
“It’s the opening of a new miniature golf course and garden, right in the heart of Portland. Its marketing tactic is to relax and rejuvenate your mind, all in this small forest in the heart of the busy city.”
“Lame-o,” she said. “But could be amusing if turning people into zombies is part of that rejuvenate your mind thing.” She laughed.
“I trust that you and Owen will make up and that you’ll both be there promptly at 11 am then.” Stewart stood up, ready to show her out.
She glared at him as she headed out.
Chapter 12
________________________________________
Usually Zan lazed in bed for hours on weekend mornings, but today she was immensely excited. She leapt out of bed, had a shower in her own private bathroom, and then donned comfortable clothes. She finally put on her white lab coat. She raced down the stairs and grabbed a bottle of juice and a granola bar from the kitchen.
“Where’s Mom?” she asked her dad. “I never see her anymore.”
“Working the ER, still,” said her dad, feeling a bit sad. “Don’t worry. She’s just filling in, and then it will be back to work at the clinic. For some reason, this new Legionnaires’ outbreak has everyone freaked out. People are heading to the ER with only a scratch, instead of their regular doctor’s clinic. It’s crazy.”
“Yeah, well, if they’d just admit what it really is, then they could dedicate more resources to the zombie outbreak.” She turned to head for the basement.
“Zan, there is no zombie outbreak. It’s just bacteria,” her dad said, filling his cup with coffee.
“Right,” she said, heading downstairs. “I know the difference between bacteria and a virus.” She headed to the storage room at the back.
In there, her centrifuge had automatically switched off. She carefully removed both of the test tubes. One was marked as “A” and the other as “B” in reference to the two different zombie strains.
> “OK, let’s get some samples and check them under the microscope.”
Sample A was as expected. It contained bits of dead zombie viral strain A. It was quite distinctive, with tendrils of what appeared to be Zs throughout the dried blood. She zoomed in to have a look. It was like something out of a horror novel. It had a vague resemblance to the Ebola virus, except that Ebola had that Mickey Mouse head on one end, while the Z virus had about three Zs in its form, or that’s what she believed, as it was dried up and broken.
“OK, let’s check the second strain,” she muttered. She put the glass slide under the microscope. She peered in, but couldn’t see anything except for the common cold virus. “That’s odd. There should be something here,” she said. She looked up. “It can’t be completely magical, can it?”
She took more samples, just to be certain, but the results were the same. Unless that hand they’d grabbed from the dump’s bin had been completely human, these were unusual results.
“Looks like I have another date with Bourne,” she said. She laughed. “Owen will love it!” She cleaned up, and then went to grab her phone to make arrangements.
“Hey, Bourne. I need another zombie part. I believe the one I have is a dud.”
“Too late,” he said. “Turns out that some rookies found the parts. They’re on the way to the morgue as we speak.”
“Dammit,” said Zan. “I really need a sample from an actual zombie.”
“Well, I’ll keep you updated if there are any more sightings,” he said.
“Cool.” She hung up. “I guess experiments are on hold, for now.” She hung her lab coat up and went back upstairs.
“Are you done down there?” her dad asked. “Mom is off work and we’re going to get some lunch.” He seemed unusually happy.
“Yeah, my experiment was a failure,” she said.
“Well, you can still be a musician.”
She just glared at him.
zzz
Stewart was still working on his spell book translation project. He hated having the book out of the safety deposit box, but he felt that it contained more information than the photocopies did. He carefully held the book in the air and held it up to the light.
“Nothing there,” he muttered to himself. “But, I wonder?” he thought. He carefully placed the book down on the table, and then grabbed his keys. He left his apartment for his storage locker. In there, he pushed boxes of Christmas decorations aside.
“Found it!” he declared, pulling out a smaller box with a label that read “Halloween Decorations.” He carried the box back to his apartment and unpacked the contents.
Soon there was a large collection of Halloween skeletons and witches on the chairs and tables. Then he pulled out a small box and held it in the air.
“This should do.” He went over to the lamp and turned it off. He almost burned his fingers on the hot bulb but finally managed to unscrew it with the help of his handkerchief. He then removed the black light bulb from its packaging and placed it in the lamp’s socket.
Then he drew the drapes to make the room as dark as he could. He turned the lamp on, then opened to the first part of the spell book that mentioned zombies.
He flipped through each page but didn’t see anything. He was about to give up, when he turned to the table of contents. Then, he saw something. It appeared to be a “_ / c” marking. “What is that? It’s like, some of the characters are rubbed out, or something.” He double-checked the rest of the pages, but only the table of contents had those strange characters show up under black light right before the chapters on zombies.
He grabbed his smartphone and snapped some photos. Then he decided that he’d better get the spell book to safety, and left for the bank.
zzz
Zan and Owen met on Monday morning. They were cordial to each other, but there was a certain coolness to the air. She decided to keep him out of the loop on having Sergeant Bourne find her more zombie parts to test. The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded.
“OK. We’re almost there,” said Owen. They were heading to the opening of the new miniature golf course and garden in his old jalopy.
“I’m shocked,” she said. “I didn’t think your car would make it.”
He actually laughed.
zzz
A small crowd was gathered at the Tranquil Miniature Golf Garden. Owen and Zan waited in his car inside the parking lot so they wouldn’t have to talk to Mayor Jane Cote. She was checking her notes with her assistant, Clara Stokes. Then Clara went to stand beside another man. They whispered together for a bit. When the mayor walked up, they stopped whispering and took off in separate directions.
“I recognize that guy. What’s his name? Mars Simms, I think?” asked Zan.
“Oh right, he’s a city council member. What’s that anyway?” he asked, picking up his smartphone to do a search.
“It means he didn’t get voted as mayor, so he’s second best.” Zan had a good chuckle.
“Oh look! It’s your boyfriend,” said Owen.
“What? Oh, Sergeant Bourne.”
“Right,” he responded, trying not to look jealous.
“He reminds me of my brother,” she explained.
“Really? I didn’t even know you had a brother.”
“I know, right? My parents would like to forget it.”
“Oh, sorry,” he said.
“Anyway, he’s not my boyfriend. It’s none of your business anyway.”
Owen thought about that, but decided not to respond, as he didn’t want to make the conversation even more uncomfortable than it already was.
“Let’s go in,” said Zan. “Looks like the party is starting.”
They stood far in the back, waiting. Sergeant Bourne saw them and waved.
“Oh look! Charlie is here!” said Owen.
“Cool, it feels like ages since we’ve seen her!” Zan waved.
Charlie was trying to get through the crowd without being rude, but then she just gave up and waited.
The teens pretended to listen to the mayor’s speech but pretty much tuned her out. Finally, the ribbon was cut and the cake was ready to be served.
“Do you want cake?” Owen asked Zan.
“No, I’ll wait here.”
“OK,” he said. “Last chance!” He headed over to the table. It was set up outside, rather than inside the small ticket building where you picked up your equipment.
“Hi, Zan!” said Charlie, finally able to make her way over. They hugged.
“Charlie! How was Seattle?” she asked.
“Great! No more zombies! It’s a done deal!”
“Wow, that’s amazing,” said Zan. “I heard about what had happened, and I’m so amazed. I didn’t even know that could happen.”
“Yeah, Gran knew this spell. It was incredible. Now Stewart wants to know just how many spells she knows that he doesn’t.” She didn’t mention the last part that she had to do at the end. That was for her alone.
Zan laughed. “I think we should hang out with Gran more often.”
“I know, but she seems resistant, other than ensuring that I stay safe.”
“Well, keep pressing. We’ve still got zombies here.”
“Really?” said Charlie. “What kind of zlayers are you anyway?”
Zan frowned at her, but then laughed as Charlie laughed.
“Well, that’s why we’re here,” said Zan. “Guaranteed to be a zombie fest, coming up.”
Charlie smiled, gently tapping the pouch that hung from her belt.
“Hi, Charlie!” said Owen, stuffing cake into his mouth. “I ate your share.”
“Good,” said Charlie. “I haven’t been able to get to the gym for weeks now.”
“Well, just wait,” said Zan. “The action is about to start.”
They watched as the crowd slowly dispersed.
“Hey, kids. I’ve got to get back to work. Let me know when the zombies come.” Sergeant Bourne waved and headed to his police
car.
“Great, no backup,” commented Zan.
“Do we ever have backup?” said Charlie.
“Hi, folks,” said Mars Simms. In his hands he held some miniature golf clubs and balls. “Are you going to give the new course a try? It’s free for the next hour.”
“Cool!” said Owen, grabbing the equipment. Zan glared at him, while Charlie seemed curious.
Charlie grabbed a club and ball, while Owen handed Zan her equipment.
“Have fun,” said the city council member, taking off.
“Is anyone else staying?” asked Charlie. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Yeah,” said Owen. “I feel like we’ve been targeted.”
“Well, only a few untrustworthy individuals likely know who we are,” said Charlie.
“Well, let’s get to it,” said Zan. She swung her club. “This could be used as a weapon, but we’d still need our daggers.”
The team headed inside the building, and then was directed through to the garden at the back. They were amazed that it didn’t look like a cheap, worn miniature golf course from the 90s. They had used real lawn grass for each green. There were red brick paths leading from one green to another. Between them were ponds, a meandering river, and many plants and flowers.
“Wow, nicely done,” said Charlie, visibly impressed.
“Yeah, this isn’t like that cheap course outside Portland,” commented Owen.
“Let’s just get on with it. I don’t see any zombies,” complained Zan.
Owen set up his ball and took the first swing. The ball went high, hitting the back brick wall, before disappearing. “I have no idea where that went.” He walked forward to have a look. “OK. It’s all good! Next!”
The girls took their turns. It turned out that Owen’s ball had reached the cup more closely than the others. He won the first round. They marked their scores on the card and walked down the brick road to the next green.
“What is this?” asked Charlie, looking at a set of figures written on a boulder. “How odd.”