by Noel Merczel
Roger recalled old men who had been sitting on nearby benches reading the paper catching site of Maryland's curvy smooth legs gleaming in the sun...her tiny short dress riding dangerously high on her perfectly rounded thighs.
Sometimes the old men would pretend they hadn't seen, only to keep sneaking glances in Maryland's direction in what they thought was an unobtrusive way. But Roger always caught them.
And Maryland would laugh and slowly spread her legs just a little bit wider, giving the old men a naughty peek at her naked v area, shaved smooth as a baby’s butt.
One time, she instructed Roger to sit next to her on top of a picnic table. There was some old codger at the next picnic table, pretending to read a book called Winning the Loser's game...
Maryland told Roger to lick his finger and rub her down there. So he had.
The old man lifted his book up and peeked underneath as Maryland came to a rip-roaring orgasm whereby she spread her legs wide giving the geriatric peeping tom the view of a life-time, her bare naked swollen parts displayed in broad daylight, for all the world to see.
Roger had fingered his kinky ex-girlfriend a few more times in public – hell, he was a guy and Maryland was sexy as hell – but he was always worried they were going to be arrested for indecent public exposure.
There was this one park, Rock Valley, where they would regularly have sex at dusk with people all around. They would pick an out of the way picnic table, or do it right in the backseat of his car with the windows wide open.
At the Lake Michigan beach in Chicago, they brought each other to orgasm underneath a beach towel surrounded by families with little children enjoying the nice breeze on a hot day. After the thrill of the orgasm wore off, though, Roger felt sick.
What if, God forbid, a little kid had seen something?
And that was the end of Maryland.
But Mimi was different. Roger met Mimi at a mushroom-picking hike in the Shady Oaks community. She had been there with her sister. Roger was blown away by how genuine Mimi was...sexually, very shy...and also, very "real." Not a manipulative, shallow or materialistic bone in her body.
After staggering off the rollercoaster ride of being with a narcissistic exhibitionist like Maryland, that was very appealing to Roger.
Mimi hadn't asked for anything from him. Not one lace-trimmed push-up bra...not a single piece of overpriced costume jewelry from the mall. And she always wore underwear out in public. With Mimi,it was definitely underwear - plain old white Joe Boxer underwear - not panties.
Roger had to teach Mimi everything about sex. She hadn't known a damn thing, which was incredibly unusual in this day and age for a woman in her twenties. Very refreshing, actually. He had been touched by her guilelessness.
And now...she barely let him touch her.
So he resorted to fantasizing about that cute girl who was always out watering the flowers...the one he passed on his nightly jog. A girl who, ironically, resembled Maryland – at least physically. She had what Roger liked to call, Anime eyes. Impossibly big brown eyes that almost looked photoshopped, they were so big.
Once when the girl bent over, Roger caught a glimpse of soft white cotton panties with little flowers on them. At least she wore panties... unlike Maryland.
Whenever Roger thought of that girl he thought of flowers, softness, and innocence. And ironically....sex.
Roger started to get hard...
"Oh shit..." he groaned.
He hated himself for becoming aroused because it was so damn perverted. After all, he didn't even know how old the damn girl was...not to mention the fact he was a married man.
Also, not to mention the fact that his wife had just been attacked by someone acting like a damn zombie, which in turn, caused his wife to act like a damn zombie and try to attack him!
"Stop!" he ordered his dick. "Damn it! Back to reality!"
Roger took another huge swig of iced tea.
As much as he wanted to escape this horrific reality he found himself in, day dreaming was not going to make it go away.
Roger sat up.
Now that he had re-hydrated, he could think a little better.
He'd only caught a few episodes of the wildly popular show Dead Heads, but Roger thought the make-up on the woman who attacked his wife far surpassed that of the "Deadies” on the show, despite the fact the show had actually won awards for costumes and make-up.
And the way this fake zombie woman attacked his wife and started...eating her.... literally eating her ear! It's like, what the fuck? The damage this woman had done in such a short time...all the blood...God!
Plus the sheer super human strength of the woman rendering him completely helpless... and Roger knew he was no slouch in the strength department. None of this was logical. None of it made any sense. He’d tried everything; punching her...kicking her...pulling her hair...nothing worked.
But come on! Roger was too smart to believe in zombies. Sure they were great for movies or TV shows. But they just weren't logical...the whole concept of someone coming back to life just to eat other people...it was actually really dumb when you thought about it...
If they're dead, how would their digestion process work?
Why the hell didn’t they ever go to the bathroom?
After the zombie-like woman loped off a few yards and busied herself with eating Mimi's ear, his wife lay on the ground, not breathing. Roger had felt her wrist. There had been no pulse...
With a rising sense of panic, Roger had rushed to the door of the house and at first, just tried to open it. The door was locked, of course. He had screamed and shouted, pounding on the door frantically, and then he tried the doorbell.
Roger had slammed his hand on the doorbell over and over... rang the thing about a dozen times... screamed some more; afterwhich, resorting to banging the hell out of the door, all to no avail. Nobody responded.
He knew they were in that house. He'd seen the light go off and the curtain move, damn it.
What kind of people wouldn't want to help someone in that kind of situation?
Unless they thought he, Roger, was part of it... like it was all some kind of trick to get them to come outside.
Everyone watched too many damn horror movies and therefore, didn't trust anyone. That was the damn problem!
Wait a minute, Roger thought....
Maybe the people in the house were in on it, too.
But the most confusing element of the macabre scene was when he turned around and saw that Mimi was standing up.
Roger had raced over to her, so happy she wasn't dead....so thrilled...overjoyed....there were no words....but then, she'd come after him...
Tried to attack him!
She started growling and snarling, and somehow, she'd even managed to put some of that damn zombie make-up on herself... that ugly reddish pink rash on her face... the weird milky white eyes...
When did she even do that?
The only answer was that his wife was part of it, too... part of this crazy zombie cult!
That's why Mimi had stalked out of their house right when she did, knowing full well that Roger would follow her...she had it all planned out...
This really killed him to admit.
HIS OWN WIFE!
He didn't deserve this.
Mimi had been acting so fucking weird lately....and she'd always been so damn insecure....someone like that was easy to recruit...easy to brainwash.....
Whenever they watched the news or any sort of documentary, Mimi would immediately agree with whatever the person on TV was saying. That redneck with one tooth left in his mouth who claimed BigFoot walked through his kitchen while he was sucking down his morning oatmeal? Mimi believed him!
His wife was exactly the sort of person who always got recruited into cults...
Roger forced himself off the damn couch. He was so confused. Should he call the local police?
Then his wife would be arrested.
Had any of this crap made the news?
Roger turned on Fox news. Meghan Kelly, a blonde news woman Roger had always admired and enjoyed listening to, was actually talking about....he couldn't believe it.....A ZOMBIE LIKE VIRUS?
"Oh come on!" Roger said in disbelief.
Not Fox News!
Weren't they the ones known for seeing through all the phony bullshit?
"Oh screw you, Fox!" Roger declared, switching over to MSNBC.
There he saw some young Hispanic woman jabbering on about the CDC and mosquito bites and brain altering viruses... sudden outbreak ... pinkish purple rash... everyone advised to stay indoors... National Guard is on the way......
”You've got to be kidding!" Roger exclaimed.
Roger tried all the channels, and they were all basically running the same exact story, except for Cartoon Network, which showed SpongeBob flipping burgers at the Krusty Krab.
Not one of the news channels floated the possibility that this sick outbreak might be fake? That meant the crazies had won!
What was this....The Purge?
The worst part of all, was that his wife was one of them.
What the hell should he do?
He had to find her.
He had to help her.
Despite the fact she had done this, Roger refused to blame her. She was an easy target.
The National Guard...was that for real? She'd be taken away. Maybe she would be shot! Or some overly-panicked neighbor would shoot her.
He had heard that rifle go off. He'd also heard a siren, which sounded like the siren the town used for a tornado warning. And sure as shit, there was no tornado coming.
Or was there?
Hell, that's all he needed!
What the hell was wrong with the news running a scare tactic report like this?
Were they insane?
He had to find Mimi before anyone else did. Hopefully, he wasn't too late.
Roger wished he had a handgun. Truthfully, he hadn't felt much need for one before. However, being an avid turkey hunter, he did own a shotgun, which he removed from the safe in the dining room.
He loaded the gun, took another giant swig of Arizona Tea, and headed out the door to find his wife. She would respect the gun.
Hopefully, he wouldn't have to use it on anyone else.
After Roger stalked out into the driveway, however, he was pissed as hell to discover that the tires of his trusty Kia Sorento had all been slashed.
"Fuck!" he swore.
Did Mimi slash the tires?
Roger just stood there, shaking his head. This night was total madness.
Nothing would surprise him anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
WHOMP!
There it was again. Another loud thump on the basement window.
"I'm calling 9-1-1!" Andrea announced, immediately reaching for her phone.
Andrea saw a text from her mom. The subject line was URGENT!
She would read it later. Right now, there was some creepy shit happening right outside the basement window that was just a little more urgent than her mom reminding her to wash her dinner dishes.
Thunder boomed all around, causing the whole house to vibrate. There was also a siren shrieking through the neighborhood which added to the apocalyptic atmosphere. Andrea was so glad she wasn't home alone when all this happened, despite how irritating and obnoxious Lisa was.
"Wait a minute, people!" Drew commanded. "What if it's just an animal or something?"
"What's the "or something" part?" I Andrea asked. "Frankenweenie?"
”Maybe it's Tyra Banks!" Lisa chimed in, giggling.
"It would have to be a pretty big animal to make noise like that," Andrea pointed out, ignoring Lisa. "Like what...a grizzly bear? Or maybe a moose in heat? It sounds angry, whatever it is."
"No, not a grizzly bear or a moose, silly!" Drew replied. "I mean like a possum or a skunk or a raccoon or..."
"A coyote with rabies?" Patty suggested.
"That’s it! A coyote with rabies!" Drew exclaimed.
"Well, that's still pretty creepy..." Andrea said.
“I once had a dream about possums,” Patty added, in her typical dizzy fashion. “They were all dropping through the ceiling...”
"What if it's some crazy guy with a gun or a meat cleaver or something?" Andrea asked, cutting Patty off. "What if it's terrorists? I feel like a sitting duck just waiting around down here!"
Andrea had no clue why the term "sitting duck" popped into her head. She had never used that term before in her life. It sounded like some cheesy line from an old movie. But that's exactly how she felt. Like she was a sitting duck about to be ...what? Raped? Executed? Burned alive?
Her eyes took a quick scan of the basement. If she needed to grab a weapon, what should it be?
The broom?
The guitar that was coated in dust since no one ever played it?
A vase?
The sharp end of a paint brush?
The stapler?
Admittedly, none of these items would do a whole lot of good. Maybe there were some scissors in the desk, but they probably weren't very sharp.
I’ve got it! Andrea thought triumphantly. I’ll toss a whole bunch of nicotine into the killer's eyes. That should do the trick!
"Let's just wait a few minutes and see if we can get a good look at what it is,” Drew suggested.
So they waited for whatever "it" was to "show itself," staring intently at the narrow window in Andrea's basement. Except for Patty, who for some reason, kept staring at the basement wall.
"What if we don't see anything?" Andrea finally asked after a few moments had passed. with no more thumping or signs of bears, possums or coyotes. "What if it's some evil ax-wielding lumberjack discovering a way to break into this house, right this very second?"
"Yea...maybe this is stupid..." Drew agreed.
"Oh God! I think it's EXCITING!" Lisa shrieked. "I FEEL LIKE I'M IN A MOVIE!"
"Yea, and maybe in that movie everyone gets killed," Andrea pointed out, sarcastically. "Wouldn’t that be exciting?"
“See? Andrea’s no fun!” Lisa whined, with what was supposed to be a sexy pout.
Lisa was one of those women who never seemed to grasp the fact that calculated sexy pouts just don't work on other women.
"Maybe we’re about to be raped by some guy with aids!" Drew put in.
“Oh thanks, Drew,” Andrea told her friend. “I feel much better now.”
“Well they do have those pills you can take,” Lisa said.
“That is so not funny,” Andrea informed her.
Andrea thought that Lisa really needed to work on her terrible sense of humor.
Just then, another loud clap of thunder echoed through the basement.
"How timely," Drew remarked.
"The prettiest girl always gets killed first!" Lisa exclaimed excitedly. "I guess that would be me!"
"Or maybe Andrea," Drew said.
"Shut up, Drew!" Lisa sang out.
Andrea did have to agree with Lisa's comment about feeling like they were in a movie though.
It would be one of those bad slasher movies from the eighties that involved a group of young people having fun....young people with blow-dried hair and preppy clothes drinking out of red Solo cups and flirting... until someone like Jason or Freddy Kreuger crashes the party and slays a few of them, leaving the others running away shrieking in horror.
Then it happened again.
WHOMP!
Only this time, someone really was there behind the window. Only it wasn't Freddy Krueger or Jason or the Chainsaw Massacre guy. Or even a coyote with rabies.
It was a woman.
"What the hell...." Lisa exclaimed.
Andrea dropped her cell phone onto the couch.
OH MY GOD…she thought. I KNOW WHO THAT IS!
Onl
y, she couldn't believe it.
It was way too freaky a coincidence....
Andrea honestly believed she would be less shocked to see Freddy Krueger behind that window.