by Billy Wells
“Wow, Max. I knew it would be lonesome here, but I thought we would see a human being now and then.”
“Actually the fewer we see the better. Remember, people are our enemies now.”
They heard the sound of an engine, and through the trees, they saw a small plane spiraling out of control above them.
“Look, Max! That plane's in trouble. He's heading right into the side of the mountain.”
“There aren't supposed to be any planes. Remember, Denise?”
“Yeah. You're right. The pilot is breaking the law. I wonder where he came from.”
The plane disappeared behind the trees, and they heard a loud explosion and saw smoke billowing into the sky.
“Well, I guess it's safe to say whoever he was, he didn't make it,” Denise said sadly.
“Maybe it's for the best,” Max said without emotion.
When they reached the cabin on the crest of a hill, they sat in the SUV and peered at the expanse of the wilderness that stretched as far as their eyes could see.
“God, Max. This place is like another world. It's so desolate.”
Powderpuff barked and glared into the woods to the left of the cabin.
“This is our new home, Denise,” Max said coldly. “I hate to say it, till the very end.”
“The end?”
“We both know sooner or later, even this place will be overrun with zombies. Unless some genius comes up with a vaccine, we're just biding time.”
”How long do you think we have? Do I have time to write my memoirs? I brought some paper.”
“I don't have a clue. But you better keep it short. We can skate by on the food we brought for a month or so, and then if we're still alive, I'll have to see if I can hit anything with my trusty rifle.”
“You have a rifle?”
“No, it's in the cabin. I used to hunt with my father when I was a teenager. I was a pretty good shot then.”
“Gee. I didn't know I married an honest to God Daniel Boone.”
Max opened the car door. “Let's get this stuff in the cabin, the ice won't last forever. I sure hope the fridge still works.”
He saw the fear of the unknown and particularly the desolation of the mountains in her face. “Now don’t go bonkers on me. I'm sure there's no reception on the TV, but there is a shortwave radio. Maybe we can hear something about how bad things are now.
When Denise opened the rear door on her side, Powderpuff leaped out and made a beeline into the woods.
“Powderpuff!” Denise screamed. “Fuck. I should've known she might do this.”
“This place is full of all kinds of new smells and varmints scurrying about. She’s like a kid in a candy store.” Max yelled, “Powderpuff! Come back here this minute!”
They waited for her to come wagging her tail like she always had at home, but when she didn’t come, their brows creased with worry, fearing what their precious dog would get into.
“Max. We're going to have to go after her. Like you said, she's a babe in the woods. No matter how big she is she's just a giant pussy cat, who wouldn't hurt a fly.”
“God knows how long it's going to take to find her. She's always heeded our call in the city. We could see her for blocks, and she could see us. But this is a nightmare, and we need to get the stuff inside. It'll be dark soon.”
“All right, I'll start carrying in the food and supplies. Since you have experience in the woods, you go after Powderpuff and bring her back.”
“Good idea,” Max replied, “But I'm going to get my rifle first. There may be bars in them thar hills. In fact, I know there are.”
“Bears?”
“Yes. Sometimes they come right up to the window and look in.”
“Damn, Max, you're scaring me.”
“I'm sorry, but would you rather something unexpected come up and bite you on the ass if I didn’t tell you?”
“No.” she said with her lip trembling. “Now. I'm really worried about Powderpuff.”
“I am, too, actually. This is what I meant back at the house. I just didn’t know how to express it.”
Max went inside the cabin, came out with a rifle, and headed in the direction he last saw the Doberman.
“Powderpuff!” he shouted in a stern, no-nonsense voice, the kind their pet usually responded to right away.
This time she didn't.
Max liked Powderpuff, but he didn't love her like Denise did, and he was very unhappy about leaving his wife to bring in the supplies without him watching her back. She had to be careful, and so did he. The sun was going down, and he hadn't been in the forest for years. He remembered getting lost as a teenager, and his father had a hell of a time finding him.
He heard snaps, crackles, and the weird sounds of the wind whistling through the branches. If he did come upon a bear, his 22 might scare it off, but it wouldn't stop it if it attacked. A pack of wolves might also be a problem, but they were usually more afraid of humans than a bear.
“Powderpuff!” he shouted, getting madder and madder. He didn't need this shit right now.
He smelled smoke as he threaded deeper into the thick forest and saw the remnants of the airplane that crashed up ahead.
He approached the wreckage strewn about the ground. The cockpit was partially intact, but he didn't see the body of the pilot inside.
The windshield had caved in and was a splintered mass. The steel shell of the nose was smashed into the control panel. A jungle of wires hung from dials and meters all around.
Max didn't understand why the pilot was not inside unless he parachuted out before the crash. When they first saw the plane going down, they hadn't seen a chute. He didn't think there was room for the pilot to be thrown from the wreckage when it hit the trees.
He heard something scampering through the leaves behind the mangled fuselage. Squirrels?
As he continued to inspect all four sides of the plane, the sun was a dying ember in the sky. He didn’t want to stay in the forest all night. The moon was rising, but he could see very little under the thick canopy of trees. He decided to continue the search in the morning. Possibly, Powderpuff had already returned to the cabin, and he was wasting his time searching for her.
An hour later, Max was overjoyed when he saw the lights of the cabin in the distance. When he stepped on the porch, he exhaled a deep sigh of relief. He couldn't believe he’d actually had the savvy to find his way back in the dark after all the years he lived in the city.
When he entered the cabin, Denise rushed to him, threw her arms around him, and kissed him. “I was so worried I’d never see either one of you again,” she said holding him in a strong embrace. Then, about fifteen minutes ago, I heard a whimper at the front door, I looked out, and Powderpuff was there with his tongue hanging out. Now, you come along. This day is turning out a lot better than I thought it would. After it got dark, I didn’t think you’d find your way back until morning.”
“Believe me I was damned lucky I found my way. Remember I'm a city boy. I kept calling, and she wouldn’t come. I couldn’t see a thing, and I thought she might have returned to the cabin. Where is she anyway? Why isn’t she slobbering all over me?”
Denise looked at him sadly. “Something attacked her out there. She looks like she was in a war. She has a deep scratch on her right paw, but she’ll be all right. I tried to feed her, but she wouldn’t eat. She’s exhausted, and she’s resting on her throne in the bedroom. I don’t want her out here when we go to bed. It’s too lonely. She’ll be scared.”
“So, you don’t think it’s serious, and she’ll be fine.”
“I think so. I put some Neosporin on it and wrapped it in a bandage. What else could I do? You don’t know any vets around here, do you? Poor Powderpuff. I don’t think she’ll be anxious to go outside anytime soon. She looked terrified when she came out of the big black forest.”
“No more than I was. It was scary out there. I heard a lot of strange noises.”
“I'm sorry I made you go after her,
but I love Powderpuff, and I was worried about her.”
“I see that, but you weren’t worried about me getting mauled by a wild beast.”
“I'm sorry, Max. What’s done is done. And we’re safe.”
He went into the kitchen and found a Coors Light in the fridge. He popped the top, sat on the sofa, and said, “It wasn’t a wild goose chase entirely. I did find the wreckage of the plane that crashed.”
“Did you find the pilot's body?”
“No. I didn't. The whole front of the cockpit was crushed in. I don't think he could've survived unless he parachuted out before hand. I looked all around the wreckage, but I didn't see any trace of him. It was getting dark, but I think I would've seen him if he was there.”
“How about a TV dinner?” Denise suggested, hoping it would lift his spirit.
Max frowned, and then said, “It’ll be fine, but let me rest a minute and finish my beer.”
Denise looked worried as she bit her fingernails and peered into the black, foreboding darkness outside. When Max finally finished his beer, she went into the kitchen to nuke a Hungry Man dinner for him. She’d eaten a ham and cheese sandwich earlier.
Max got up, went to a roll-top desk, and started to fiddle with the knobs on a two-way radio he and his father had listened to years before. He changed the channels, and it crackled to life with static.
Denise called him to the dinner table. His TV dinner was ready, so he left the radio tuned to the station he and his father always listened to, went into the kitchen, and joined Denise at the table.
In between bites, Max said,” It’s been a rough day. I’m exhausted from the long drive and searching for Powderpuff in the woods. I think sex is out of the question tonight.”
“I’ll say,” They laughed.
Suddenly the radio crackled to life again, and a voice barely audible emerged from the incessant white noise.
“White rabbit calling. Anyone out there? Over.”
Max abandoned his dinner, went to the radio, and picked up the receiver. “Orange Crush calling White Rabbit. What’s your 20? Over.”
“I saw your SUV when you came in. I’m about a mile down from you on the right. Look, Crush. I’m surrounded. Over.”
“Surrounded? Explain, White Rabbit? Over.”
“Let’s dispense with the ‘overs’. My cabin is surrounded by zombies. Do you have any firepower?”
“Zombies. That's impossible. They’re all are in the city. I haven't seen a single person here in the country.”
“Not people zombies. Animal zombies.”
“Did you say animal zombies?”
“Yes. Haven't you heard?”
“No, explain.”
“If a human zombie bites an animal, the animal becomes a zombie just like the human. Some pilot, who must have been infected, crashed into the woods not far away from here. Now, my cabin is surrounded with animal zombies.”
Max and Denise couldn’t believe what they were hearing as they pondered their next move.
Suddenly, they heard the sound of footsteps on the front porch. Then the face of something dead appeared at the window and slobbered on the glass. It’s hungry eyes glared at them with fiendish intentions.
“Orange Crush. Come in. Some scientist discovered a cure for the virus and has dropped something like an acid rain on the cities that kills the zombies instantly. We need to get out of here now. If we can get to the city, we’ll be safe. It won’t be long before we can start rebuilding and have a life again. Can you reach me? You’re my last chance.”
Max and Denise heard a gut-wrenching growl behind them. Turning, they saw Powderpuff with her teeth bared, slobbering blood. Her eyes were wild with maniacal frenzy, and his hind legs ready to pounce.
Then, the front door squeaked open, and the pilot shambled toward them. Outside, the woods were alive with hundreds of ravenous mouths, screeching, hooting, and howling with one obsession on their frenzied minds. Human flesh.
After all, Max, Denise, and the hillbilly down the road, who just had his throat torn out, were the only humans for a hundred miles.
HOMICIDE MAINTENANCE
Lieutenants Alan Edgars and his partner, Jerome Bullwinkle, groaned when they heard the phone ring. They were right in the middle of devouring two Krispy Kreme glazed donuts straight from the oven with a strong, steaming cup of coffee.
Bullwinkle took the call, and after listening for a time, turned to Edgars. “Jenks says there’s a homicide at the Elite Astoria, and we’re closest to it. A woman is dead, and it's grisly. It looks like Bloody Bob’s work.”
Edgars placed the last heavenly morsel of sugar and pastry dough between his teeth and sighed, "The pleasure of eating a hot Krispy Kreme glazed donut is as close to an orgasm as anything I've ever experienced."
Bullwinkle swooned, "Right on, brother,” as he savored the last bite and chased it down with his coffee. “Drive on, Partner. Duty calls. I think I can still waddle into the elevator.”
In five minutes, they pulled the Crown Vic into the magnificent entrance of the Elite Astoria Hotel. An attendant with a flamboyant red hat opened the car door and asked, “May I be of service?”
His face darkened when Edgars showed him his badge, handed him the keys to his car, and said, “What room is the crime scene crew in?”
“They're in Room 1235.”
“We’re going to be a while.” Edgars handed him a dollar. The valet frowned and put it in his pocket.
When Edgars and Bullwinkle exited the elevators on the 12th floor, they saw a young officer in front of the open door heaving his guts out into a trashcan.
“It's pretty bad in there, huh?” Bullwinkle asked, feeling a little queasy.
“The worst,” the police officer said, and continued to heave.
When Edgars entered the room, he felt the bile rise in the back of his throat. Blood and gore covered the walls and the ceiling.
Bullwinkle said, “I’ve never seen this amount of coverage by a single body before. The perp did something peculiar to get blood splatter across a room this big. He must've dipped a brush into the blood and shook it out on the opposite side of the suite.”
Both detectives saw a sheet placed over a body in the middle of a king-size bed. One of the victim’s hands hung from the edge of the mattress. Edgars winced when he saw the perp had removed the fingernails on the exposed hand. Ugly patches of deep scarlet mottled the plush lime carpet.
Bullwinkle said, “The guy who did this is a blood junkie if I ever saw one. What was he trying to prove?”
“Who knows what a deranged maniac was thinking,” Edgars said wishing he hadn’t eaten that last donut.
Bullwinkle saw a vacuum and a bloody pail next to the sliding doors going out to the balcony. After looking at the pink and scarlet fresco design on the wall he said, “You know, Alan, I think the crazy bastard used the vacuum to suck up the blood that pooled, drained it into a bucket, and attached it to a blower.”
“What a sick fuck,” Edgars bellowed.
“I'll say.” Bullwinkle nodded.
"He also sawed off one of her hands and used it to finger-paint the bathroom,” The officer at the door shouted, and then heaved again.
“Well, that's the first time I've ever heard of that,” Edgars replied, shaking his head in disbelief.
“There's more,“ someone from the CSI group added, “The sheets are crawling with bedbugs. Apparently the perp brought a jar full with him and dumped them on the bed after he killed the woman.”
“Did we ID her yet?” Edgars asked.
The same man replied, “Yeah. She was a lawyer from Chicago. She checked in last night and was supposed to do a presentation this morning but never showed. Her company, Hodgekiss, Broadback, and Rangoon called the hotel. When she didn't answer, the desk clerk sent the housekeeper to check her room. That's when she found her.”
“I’ll bet that cleaning lady will be having nightmares for a long time,” Edgars remarked, as he walked deeper into the wors
t crime scene nightmare he’d ever seen.
Another police officer approached him with Thunderfoot sewn on the pocket of his uniform and added, “We called her husband in Chicago, and he's so messed up we couldn't get much out of him. So far, it's looking like a random killing. Nothing about the woman's history points to an affair. She has no enemies anyone can think of.”
“So, some nutcase caught her in the hall and forced her into the room. Did he rape her?” Edgars asked.
“No. It doesn’t appear so. It's the blood that gets him off, not the sex.”
“Are any valuables messing?”
Thunderfoot referred to a notepad and continued, “She had an expensive Omega watch, still ticking on the wrist of her severed hand. It doesn't appear to be a robbery. She had three hundred dollars in her purse.”
“Look at this room,” Edgars said to Bullwinkle as the officer joined his partner in the hall. “It’s going to require a major overhaul. The housekeeper is going to be cleaning this mess up for God knows how long. That’s if she can handle the gore. A painting contractor will have to repaint the entire suite. And they'll have to replace the carpet and hire an exterminator to remove the bedbugs.”
“You’re behind the times, Partner. The hotel would never ask one of their employees to clean up something this horrific. They’ll hire a professional cleaning service that specializes in crime scenes.”
“Who do they call? Do you know?” Edgars asked, amazed it took special people to clean up blood and gore.
“Homicide Cleaning on Sunset Boulevard. They are the premier blood and guts maintenance company. They do it all. Next week, if you come to this room, you won't know anything happened here at all.”
“What about the bedbugs? They're hard to get rid of, aren't they?”
“That's what I hear, but Homicide Cleaning does it all. They’ve been doing it for at least seven years. Before that it was a nightmare to deal with this kind of murder scene.”
Edgars wondered how his partner knew this and he didn’t. “How did you find out about them?”