Undead Cheesehead (Monsters in the Midwest Book 3)

by Scott Burtness

  “G-gosh, you sure planned this one right,” he congratulated himself as he walked outside. “Saved a bunch of time not having to g-get dressed.”

  The winter air on his face was crisp and invigorating, but nothing compared to the shock of realizing his car was gone.

  “Shoot. This is a mystery, and that’s a f-fact,” he muttered forlornly. A missing hotdog was one thing. Someone taking his Cavalier? That was something else altogether.

  “B-better call the sheriff,” he decided and headed back inside to make the call.

  Stanley rang the sheriff’s department nine times. Each time, the line buzzed with a disconnected tone. Perplexed, he decided to call Lois. If he didn’t have food or a car, he’d need someone to take him shopping and drop him by the station after so he could file a report.

  “Oh, hey there, Lois,” he said when she picked up. “Say, d-darndest thing. Someone stole my last hotdog and my car. C-could you maybe bring over some food? I’m starving.”

  When Lois didn’t respond, he figured maybe she hadn’t heard.

  “Lois? You there? Geez, these phones. I’ll tell ya. Did you g-get that one they had on sale at the hardware store? B-boy oh boy, I hope not. I heard that they got them so cheap because that no-good B-Bundy that owns the place bought ‘em from the back of some g-guy’s truck that was passing through on his way to Oconomowoc. Can’t be trusting stuff that c-comes off the back of some guy’s truck, no sir. Except maybe jerky,” he amended.

  When Lois still didn’t respond, he listened hard. He could hear someone breathing, so he asked again, “Lois? You there?”

  “Don’t. Move. I’m coming over,” the witch said and then disconnected the line.

  Stanley pulled out a chair at his small dining table and rested his chin on his hand. A plastic cup with a coaster taped on top sat off to one side.

  “G-good morning, weird little fly,” he said with a smile. “At least whoever nabbed my hotdogs d-didn’t get you too. Tell ya what, after Lois helps me get some b-breakfast, we’ll do some more tests and see if we can figure out what you are.”

  Stanley passed the time by sliding the little fly’s impromptu enclosure back and forth from hand to hand, all the while wondering what experiments to try next. He’d given it a good look-see with his magnifying glass the night before, and even let it bite his finger, but was still no closer to determining if it was just a weird looking fly, or a brand new fly.

  The sound of skidding tires crunching on snow-covered gravel caused him to raise his head and look out the front window. Lois was running to his door, followed more slowly by someone bundled up from toes to top in boots, jeans, and an oversized Packers parka. The hood was pulled up, and a ski mask and goggles completely covered the person’s face.

  “Herby!” Stanley guessed, overjoyed at the unexpected visitor. He hurried to his front door and pulled it open. Instead of a warm reception from Lois and her swaddled vampire boyfriend, he found himself staggering backward as some unseen force pressed hard against his chest.

  “Nustro lindum, baleck tull! Dark imposter, demon’s game, return you now to whence you came!” the witch shouted. At the same time, she made a series of sharp, quick gestures with her hands and ended the motion by thrusting her palms forward.

  Stanley loved watching Lois cast spells. It was always so exciting. When the strange pressure on his chest relented, he started to clap.

  “Wow! N-nice spell, Lois. What did it d-do?”

  Rather than answering, Lois glared and him and stomped forward. Without invitation, she grabbed his cheeks and pinched, pulled at his ears, poked him sternly in the chest, and again in the belly.

  “Hey! Why are you p-poking me?” he complained, swatting ineffectually at the witch’s hands.

  Before she could answer, the bundled-up vampire pushed her aside and wrapped Stanley up in a bear hug.

  “It’s you! You’re alive!” Herb cried. “It worked. Lois did it. And you aren’t even in a beer can.”

  Stanley endured the unexpected gush of emotion from his friend. When the vampire finally released him, he asked, “Why would I b-be in a beer can?”

  Lois poked him again in the chest, earning another pained, “Hey!” from Stanley.

  “You are supposed to be dead. You got shot. You died,” she said, accentuating each ‘you’ with another poke. “I tried to bring you back like I did with Herb, but it didn’t work. It should’ve worked, but it didn’t. So I was a wreck, I was sobbing all night, Herb too, and then,” she continued, voice rising, “you called me. And when I went back to check on your body, you… Stanley, you dissolved.”

  Uncomfortable feelings stirred deep in Stanley’s chest, and it wasn’t from the repeated poking. Murky memories crept up. Confusing, overlapping, contradicting memories. Waking up. Falling. Waking up. Choking. Waking up. Getting shot. The cascading memories were terrifying. If déjà vu was a feeling of tedious familiarity, Stanley figured he was having some déjà boo.

  “Lois, you’re starting to sc-scare me. I’m starting to sc-scare me.”

  The witch’s face softened. “Is it really you, then? But how?”

  For the next half an hour, Lois tried a number of different spells. She apologetically explained they were to suss out demons and shapeshifters and the like. When she finished, a confused look marred her beautiful face.

  “You aren’t a demon, or a shapeshifter, or a boo hag, or anything else I know how to check for. But Stanley,” she said, and then chewed her lip in thought. “You aren’t exactly human either.”

  The witch held out a small pendant, one of many that hung from her neck. To Stanley, it looked like a clear glass marble struck through with fine lines of red and grey.

  “With the right incantation, this glows in the presence of a human. Glows, mind you. Now watch.”

  She’d already done it once, but Stanley and Herb both paid better attention the second time. Lois uttered some odd-sounding words and passed the marble back and forth in front of Stanley. It glowed… and then flickered. Glowed and flickered.

  “Maybe its batteries are getting old?” Herb asked. When Lois gave him a look, he added, “What? How am I supposed to know how these things work?”

  Lois chewed her lip again, deep in thought. “What do you remember?” she asked softly.

  Stanley moved to his Barca Lounger before answering, eager for its familiar comfort.

  “Um. I went to Ronnie’s for breakfast. I bumped into J-Jerry. You know, your old neighbor,” he added, looking at Herb. “I g-got home, and there was this buzzing. I found this little lady stuck to some d-duct tape on my loafer,” he explained, holding up the cup. “I don’t usually wear the loafers in the winter, b-but it hasn’t been too bad out and the snow wasn’t so deep, and b-boy oh boy, those loafers are sure comfy. Do you got the loafers, Herb? You should really g-get some.”

  Lois sternly redirected him back to his recollections.

  “Oh, sorry. So, I was experimenting with the fly, you know? Ch-checking to see if maybe it was a new kind of fly. You know I’ve b-been collecting all sorts of insects. One of these d-days, I’m going to find a new one, j-just you wait. And when I do…”

  Lois cleared her throat.

  “Oh. Okay. Right. So anyway, I let it b-bite me.”

  Lois and Herb gasped in unison.

  “You let it bite you?” Lois asked, incredulous. “Stanley, if I hadn’t already watched you die, I’d kill you. After what happened to Herb and Dallas, you seriously tried to get bit by a strange bug?”

  “No complaints here,” Herb offered. “Have you seen me bowl?” the vampire said with a smile, but quickly stowed his good humor when Lois skewered him with a dark look.

  Stanley shrugged apologetically and tried to explain that he wanted a Nobel Prize and to meet the president and maybe be a guest on Oprah.

  The witch shook her head, causing her blond hair to wave gently around a face gone sad. “Oh Stanley, I don’t think it works that way,” she sighed. “Well, what�
��s done is done. Who knows what that fly is, and who knows what you are now.”

  “You think maybe it really was a sp-special bug? You think I’m like Herb now, or Big-D?” Stanley asked as his eyes lit up with possibility.

  “Like I said, who knows?” Lois repeated. “But let’s look at the bright side. At least you aren’t a,”

  “Zombie,” Herb finished.

  “Right,” Lois agreed. “It’d be terrible if you were turned into a,”

  “Zombie,” Herb finished again, stressing the word.

  Lois raised an eyebrow. “Sweetie, I can finish my own,”

  “Zombie!” Herb said again, this time pointing at the front window.

  Stanley turned to follow Herb’s finger and screamed. There, right outside his window, was a grey, haggard face with disheveled brown hair and blood-splattered glasses. Glasses that looked a lot like Stanley’s favorite readers. The angular face turned from side to side, pivoting above a velour shirt collar. Red teeth flashes as the zombie worked its jaw, and a sharp Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. While Stanley stared in speechless shock, a second zombie face pushed up against the glass. This one had clearly been an attractive woman before she died, lost a few teeth, and got hit in the head by something hard enough to leave a noticeable dent in her face. A third and fourth zombie had joined their undead companions before Lois finally recovered from the shock and yelled that they had to go. She turned and ran for the back of the house followed closely by Herb and Stanley.

  “That one,” Stanley huffed as he was dragged along by the vampire. “There was one in g-glasses that…” he tried again, but whatever he was about to say was forgotten when he saw that more zombies had piled up against the back door.

  “Upstairs!” Lois commanded.

  “What?” Stanley asked, shocked. “B-but there’s nowhere to g-go from up there.”

  “Just get us to a room with a big window.” Lois said, urging him up the stairs.

  Curiosity warred with concern as Stanley led his friends up to his bedroom. Lois went straight to the window that looked out over the trees behind his house.

  “Okay. This is good. It looks like there aren’t that many in back. If we can clear the yard, we can sneak through the trees and circle around to my car. Herb? You up for this?”

  The vampire was squinting and hissing softly. He was trying to stay in the relative shadows, but the mid-morning sun didn’t leave much of the room untouched.

  “Yeah, yeah, but I hate being up during the day. Let me bundle back up,” the vampire complained. He pulled his facemask up and goggles down, and finished by pulling his Packers parka green hood up over his head.

  “Ugh,” he said in a muffled voice. “I’m exhausted. Can I get a quick sip?”

  Lois responded by pushing up her sleeve and holding her arm in front of Herb’s face. Herb pulled his facemask down, gently bit down on the inside of Lois’s wrist, and wrapped his lips around the puncture wounds. He sucked for a short moment and then leaned back with a long sigh. Lois cleared her throat and looked pointedly at her still-bleeding wrist.

  “Oh! Gosh. Sorry,” Herb apologized. He pressed his index finger against one of his long incisors until a bright red pearl welled up, and rubbed the tip of his finger over the wound on Lois’s wrist.

  Stanley watched in awe as the wounds closed before his eyes. “That sure is something,” he breathed, earning a smile from Herb before the vampire replaced his ski mask and gave a thumb’s-up.

  Lois placed her hands on Stanley’s bony shoulders. “Herb is going to carry you down. You just have to hold on tight. Can you do that?”

  A loud crash sounded from downstairs. The zombies had broken a pane of glass, probably the front window from the sound of it.

  “D-don’t got much of a choice, huh,” Stanley commented, trying to keep his voice from betraying his fright.

  Herb swept him up in his arms while Lois pushed open the double-hung window and pulled out the screen. Once the opening was clear, Herb frog-hopped up to the sill.

  “B-but what about you, Lois?” Stanley asked over Herb’s shoulder. “Who’s gonna c-carry you?”

  Lois just smiled and asked if Stanley was ready.

  “Um, yes?” Stanley lied.

  “Good. Don’t scream.”

  Before Stanley could ask what he shouldn’t scream about, the vampire crouched down, extended his legs, and leapt from the window.

  Stanley figured that jumping out of the second story window is what he wasn’t supposed to scream about, but he screamed anyway. Fortunately, he retained just enough good sense to bite down on Herb’s parka-shrouded shoulder so it didn’t make much noise. The two men sailed through the air in a gentle arc and landed near the far end of the back yard. Herb set the shaking Stanley on his feet and helped to hold him up while the skinny man caught his breath. Pressing a hand to his chest in an attempt to calm his pounding heart, he looked up to the second story window they’d just jumped from.

  Lois has stepped through the window and stood with her heels on the sill and her back pressed up against the house. Her breath came in small puffs as her lips moved, and her dark coat swayed dramatically in the light breeze as she slowly spread her arms. Stanley gasped as Lois stepped away from the window… and didn’t fall. A second step, and both feet literally stood on thin air. A third step took her slightly lower than the previous one, and a fourth took her lower still. It looked for all the world like she was calmly walking down a set of stairs. Her arms were still spread gracefully to either side, reminding Stanley of a grand dame descending to the ballroom. The zombies crowded around the back door pounded and moaned, completely unaware that their intended meal was walking over their heads. The magic stairway led Lois on a gentle descent across Stanley’s back yard and ended just before the tree line. The witch stepped lightly to the snow covered ground and dipped in a short curtsy.

  “Wow!” Stanley exclaimed and immediately realized his mistake. The zombies pressed up against his back door turned and started shuffling in their direction.

  “Oops,” he apologized, and the three friends turned and ran.

  Despite Stanley’s gaffe, luck was on their side. The zombies in the backyard were slow, and the zombies that had been out front had all managed to get inside, their dark shapes moving like shadow puppets in the broken window. The trio made it to the car without further incident, and Lois quickly sped them down Stanley’s long drive to the road.

  “Where we g-going?” Stanley asked from the back seat between gasps for breath.

  “Maybe Michigan. Or Canada,” the witch replied. “If we could drive to Iceland, I’d say Iceland.”

  Stanley gaped. “We’re leaving? Leaving Trappersville?” he asked in shock. Trappersville was his home. The thought of leaving caused Stanley to tear up. No more breakfast at Ronnie’s or beer at Steinknockers. No more games at Bay City Bowlers. “Do they even know how to b-bowl in Iceland?” he asked, forlorn.

  “I don’t know what else to do,” Lois said, clearly frustrated.

  “Hey,” Herb said through his ski mask while placing a mitten-covered hand on her thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze. “We’re going to be okay. You’ll think of something. You always do.”

  “And if I don’t?” she replied tersely. “What then?”

  The vampire yawned hugely. “We’ll take a nap, and then figure it out together. All of us,” he added with a nod to the rearview mirror. “You’re incredible, and Stanley’s the smartest guy I’ve ever met. Have you seen him program a universal remote? It’s awesome.”

  Stanley’s head bobbed in assent. “And you t-too, Herby. You’re like a super-hero.”

  “See?” Herb said in a reassuring tone. “You’re amazing, he’s smart, and I’m a super-hero. A really sleepy super-hero, but still, we’ve got this, right?”

  Lois drove for a moment in silence, lips pressed tightly together. Finally, she gave a determined nod and took the next left.

  “So, where we g-going, Lois?” Sta
nley asked again.

  “My place,” the witch responded. “I need to grab a few things, and then we’ll find a place outside of town to hole up and figure out our next move.”

  The rest of the trip passed in silence, each friend lost in their own worried thoughts. When Lois made the turn into her driveway, she instantly slammed on the brakes.

  “What’s up?” Herb asked groggily, the abrupt stop rousing him from his nap.

  “Someone’s at my house.”

  Herb peered through the windshield. “Oh, yep. Who do you think it is?”

  Lois shrugged, making it clear that she wasn’t expecting anyone. She asked Herb what he could see. The vampire had unnaturally good eyesight, even when he was looking through the heavily tinted glass of his ski goggles. He leaned forward and peered through the windshield while Stanley and Lois held their breath.

  “Two, no… three people. A couple of guys for sure. One’s real big. Like, wow. I didn’t know they could make guys that big. He’s like Stu and Wyatt and Dozer combined big,” Herb said by way of comparison.

  Stu, Wyatt, and Dozer were one of the teams on the men’s bowling league. The three men worked together at the paper mill. Each one looked capable of pulling a full-grown tree out of the ground with their bare hands. Stanley tried to imagine someone as big as the three of them combined.

  “Whadaya mean, Herb? Like, as t-tall as all of them standing on each other’s shoulders? Or do you mean like as b-big as they’d b-be if they was standing right in front of each other? Or side-by-side? G-gosh, that’d be a person like ten feet wide.”

  Herb just sighed and shook his head, earning a small smile from Lois.

  “What?” Stanley asked. “What’s so funny?”

  Instead of responding, Herb gave a slow whistle. “Oh boy. Aletia’s in there.”

  Stanley echoed Herb’s slow whistle. Aletia was Dallas’s girlfriend. Or had been, until she learned he was a werewolf and he killed her friends. If Aletia was there, that meant the Society was there. And if the Society was there, Lois and Herb were in big trouble.

  “Let’s g-go,” Stanley urged. “Let’s just g-go.”