The Last Death Worm of the Apocalypse (Kelly Driscoll Book 3)

by Nina Post

  Against a dystopian background, a deep voice-over intoned:

  In a world…

  Where trampoline jumping is against the law…

  Four garden-variety high school sluts…

  Set out to make things right.

  The ant shook his head. “I’ve never heard of it and I don’t remember watching any of it.”

  “The important thing is that you’re better now,” she said, wanting to watch more when she got home. The apartment seemed normal, though the ant looked a little sickly “But please try to answer your phone, OK?”

  She waited for the elevator, hoping that it was the last she’d hear of the zombie infection. The snow-framed balcony window to the south showed her a frozen-over Pothole City, and she jumped back from it when she heard the noise Raum had been complaining about: a deep booming sound, like a god meditating with ohm, or an enormous gong reverberating for miles.

  It sounded like it was coming from everywhere. She couldn’t narrow it down, because it seemed to emanate from every condo unit in the building.

  She called home. The phone picked up, but no one said anything. “Tubiel, get me Dave, please, if he’s there.” The phone clattered.

  A moment later: “It’s Dave.”

  “It’s me. Is there anyone who can come help me find the source of a sound?”

  “Let me check.” This time, he set the phone down carefully and came back a minute or so later. “Morris thinks he can do it.” Morris was the SP in charge of HVAC, pipe, and duct jobs. “He thinks he can trace the source from the pipes and ducts. But I’m also going to send Achiel. He may be able to trace the source, too.” Achiel was the angel in charge of home appliances.

  “How, through refrigerators?”

  “Stranger things have happened. Ten minutes?”

  Half an hour later (though Kelly knew how difficult it was to get the SPs suited up and out of the house) she was going back up in the elevator again, this time with Morris and Achiel, to the floor where she first heard the noise.

  They all stood silently in the T of the elevator vestibule and the main floor hallway.

  Minutes passed in silence, except for the rumbling of the elevators. She knew it was frustrating for both the residents bothered by the noise, and the staff or management who tried to catch the noise at the time it was happening so they could confirm the condo unit number.

  The noise started again.

  Morris’s face lit up. Achiel frowned and squinted, looking down each hallway. Morris gestured to the stairwell and Kelly opened the heavy door for them. Morris went to the pipes that ran from the roof to the lowest level of the building and touched them, shook his head and pointed up, and ran up the stairs. He checked the next floor, this time embracing the pipes like they were an old friend, and gave Kelly and Achiel a nod.

  They went out into the hallway of that floor, where the noise didn’t sound any different than on any other floor.

  Achiel stopped, listened, and pointed to the far end of the hall. After they got closer, he indicated a unit on the right, before the corner units.

  Kelly knocked on the door.

  Locks were undone and the door opened, revealing a bleary-eyed flightless ground parrot with short legs and big feet, a gray beak in an almost owl-like face, and chartreuse-colored, whisker-like feathers.

  “Yes?” It sounded like Yiss.

  “I’m the building manager, Kelly Driscoll. I’m investigating a noise I believe is coming from your unit.”

  “Why don’t you come in.” The resident padded over to his kitchen and indicated to them to sit by the high counter. “I’ve got a kettle on, but I can also get you a fizzy drink. What’s your preference?”

  “Tea is fine, thanks,” she said.

  He poured three mugs of hot tea from an electric kettle. In the center of the living room sat a huge brass bowl.

  “Who are they?” The resident indicated Morris and Achiel.

  “They helped me find you. Do you know what noise I’m referring to?” Kelly asked, accepting the tea and giving the other mugs to Morris and Achiel.

  “Yiss, I think so. I’m a little embarrassed to discuss it…”

  “Discuss what?”

  The resident blinked sleepily. “I beg your pardon,” he said. It came out as I big yur pardon. “I’m nocturnal, and I’m not used to being up this early in the day. But the rimu tree is fruiting in the patio.”

  Kelly gave him an uncomprehending look. “The what?”

  “The rimu tree. Perhaps you’ve seen it, near the pachysandra and cotoneasters?”

  She gave him a shrug.

  “Mm, well. You see, I mate once every three years, and this timing coincides with the fruiting of that particular tree, a coniferous evergreen. I don’t know if you’ve noticed it.”

  “I don’t understand what these things have to do with each other. Wait, you mate once every three years?” She put up a hand. “Sorry—it’s none of my business. Unless it has to do with the noise, which many of the residents are complaining about.”

  “I’m afraid it does relate to the noise. I apologize for bothering my neighbors. I often sing “Let’s Be Neighborly” when I shower. It’s not a concept I’m hostile to.”

  “How does it relate?”

  “Well.” Will. “It’s almost Christmas.”

  “I don’t see what this—”

  “When it nears Christmas, I sit in that bowl you see there. I puff up my feathers and I make a sound. This sound travels far, typically for several miles. I do this every night, all night, for months.”

  Kelly pressed on a pulsating throb in her forehead. “Why?”

  “To attract a female, of course.”

  “You do realize this is a condominium building.”

  “Yiss. I like the amenities.” Aminities.

  “You’re aware that this building has other residents.”

  “Yiss.”

  “What’s your… uh, background?”

  “I’m a kakapo, originally from New Zealand.”

  “Where are the female kakapos?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  “What I’m asking is, could we come to an agreement where building management finds you a suitable female so you won’t need to make this astonishingly loud noise?”

  Basically, she was willing to be this kakapo’s pimp in the name of quiet enjoyment for the residents of Amenity Tower.

  “Well, I don’t know where the females are is the problem. All I can do is hope they hear me.”

  “If a female kakapo heard you and came to the building, they would have to talk to the front desk staff, who would have to call up to your unit to ask you if you’re expecting a visitor and would you like them to come up. If the front desk staff has no idea it’s you who’s making this noise, they have no one to call.”

  “Yiss, I see.” The kakapo’s beak went up and down. “But they would know now?”

  “Here’s the thing,” Kelly said. “If you keep doing this bowl thing and making the noise, I’m going to have no choice but to fine you for it. And if you get a certain number of these letters, you’ll have to leave. Do you understand?”

  “Yiss.”

  “Good.”

  There were a few seconds of silence.

  “But I only mate once every three years.”

  “Yeah, you mentioned that,” she said. “Why didn’t you get a house? Though I think your neighbors would have the same issue.”

  “Have you priced out the cost of a single-family house in this area? It’s astronomical! Also, I like the amenities.”

  Kelly got up, and so did Morris and Achiel. “Do we have an agreement? You’ll cease the noise and I’ll try my best to find you a mate. Deal?”

  “Yiss, deal.”

  Kelly sent Morris and Achiel home, promising to make their favorite dinner soon. She found Raum in the fitness center, doing the elliptical with a view of Ultra-Amenity Tower.

  She stood in front of him. “I found the source of the no
ise.”

  He kept going, arms pumping back and forth. “The noise?”

  She nodded. “The noise.”

  “Well, who was it? What was it?”

  She explained.

  Raum kept going on the elliptical. “How did you find him?”

  She explained.

  He chuckled. “And where do you think you’re going to find a female kakapo?”

  “I have no idea. But I explained he has to stop, effective immediately, or risk eviction.”

  “I don’t know if that’s something Roger would have done.”

  “What?”

  “Using SPs to track down a noise and offering to be a resident’s pimp.”

  “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” she asked, genuinely wondering which one he thought it was.

  “Well, I’m no judge of that.”

  Kelly was beyond relieved to find her office unoccupied by Charlotte, and fondly remembered a time when that was always the case. She started a profile for the kakapo on one of those matching sites.

  M seeking F Kakapo

  I’m a capable, calm, gainfully-employed kakapo with the deep, lustrous color of La Grande Chartreuse. I also have a dignified gunmetal gray beak and bold, intimidating feet. I would love to share my stylish downtown condo (and the many amenities of the building where I live) with a good-natured female kakapo who enjoys free outdoor music concerts and the Pothole City Photography Museum.

  She added contact info, saved it to the site, and received a confirmation that the profile was live. That task completed, she looked at the page where she kept all of her tasks in lists—next actions, waiting for, upcoming, dates of interest, and more. Getting Things Done, all the way.

  Charlotte swept into the room, brightening Kelly’s mood about as much as a disembodied hand clawing its way across the carpet.

  The sight of the female mentor she’d always wanted filled her with optimism, and the promise of imminently bestowed, sagacious guidance was electrifying.

  Or not.

  Since Charlotte had to approve any large payments, Kelly had to tell her about the wire transfer for Cicada Bros. When Charlotte heard the amount, she sat back in her chair, dumbfounded. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

  “The lap pool project was completed ahead of schedule. You told me to form a committee where we decided on what amenities to add, and this was the one the majority of residents wanted. We already budgeted this from the reserve, and the board unanimously approved it. I don’t see what the issue is here.”

  Charlotte stood and put a finger on the desk like she held it down with her incredible strength. “You’re well aware that any contracts like this needed my approval as well. It’s unacceptable that you didn’t take this to me at the beginning. I would never have given the green light to this type of vendor—they’re not even on the current approved vendors list!”

  “I called every single one of those vendors, and none of them were able to do it within our budget.”

  Charlotte crossed her arms. “That’s it. Pack up your things.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You don’t work here anymore. You’re fired. Get out.”

  Kelly’s heart jumped. “You don’t have the authority to fire me.”

  “Claw & Crutty brought me in to fix the reserve, and Claw & Crutty gave me a broad mandate to do that.”

  Gut-punched, she didn’t move for a moment. She nodded and gathered her stuff and left the office.

  On the way out, she saw Vassago, who gave her a concerned look. “Kelly? Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m good,” she said automatically, and aligned into auto-pilot. “By the way, the lap pool is done. They’re going to fill it soon.”

  Vassago raised a brow. “Oh? When, today?”

  “I think so.”

  “The board is happy it can help give such a desired amenity to the residents of Amenity Tower,” he said, as though Kelly held a mic at his face.

  “Uh-huh.” I have to go back to bed and stay there for a while.

  Vassago waved, sort of, and walked off with a distracted look. She squinted after him, suspicious, finding that look familiar, but too numb to know or care.

  On His Merry Way to the Caterpillar Ride

  app would not wake up.

  Af shook him, pushed at him, and even smacked him across the face, which made Papp murmur and shift position slightly, and snore even more. Af turned all the lights on. The bathroom light, the overhead light, the nightstand lights. Nothing.

  That was annoying enough; he wanted to get on the road, but the guru’s most recent Tweets were making him increasingly agitated.

  Holla 2 hotties in shaker heights!!! (tongue, volcano)

  shopping + a pumpkin latte (latte, shopping bag)

  rollin east like a beast (werewolf) NY!!! (Statue of Liberty)

  The guru was already in New York state. At this rate, he’d never catch up to him.

  Af dug through his suitcase and found a brown paper bag. He stood right by Papp’s bed, put his hand inside the bag, and twisted his fingers around inside.

  “Hmm. Wha..?” Papp blinked and leaned up at the loud noise. “Af?”

  “I’d like to leave now.”

  Papp yawned and stretched, got up and padded to the bathroom in his boxers and worn T-shirt, carrying a stack of clothes from his duffel bag, and showered for an interminably long time. Af had showered the night before, like he always did. As the Angel of Destruction, he did not have to shower. Or do anything, really. He never fully appreciated that freedom until now.

  Why was he even waiting? Why didn’t he turn now? If he turned, he could cover the distance between the motel and the guru in a short time. But he hated to disappoint Kelly.

  Papp finally turned off the shower twenty-three minutes in, came out dressed, at least. “Can we go now?” Af said, hating this dynamic. “We can buy some breakfast, get it to go. You want doughnuts? We can get doughnuts.”

  Papp took a seat on the chair in the corner, got out his tablet computer, and started to play a game.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I can’t launch into the day. I like to ease into it.”

  Af walked over and looked. It was some kind of game with moving dots. And Papp didn’t even care if Af wanted breakfast; he expected him to wait.

  Af reached some kind of inflection point and decided. “Sorry, Kelly,” he murmured under his breath.

  “What’s that?” Papp said, not looking up from his game.

  “Nothing.” Af considered if he would need anything from his bag. He supposed he’d hold onto his wallet. But what would he do about the rental car?

  “I’m going to make a call.” Standing right outside the door would be a safe proximity to Papp.

  He tried Kelly but it went directly to voice mail. He tried her office number.

  “Amenity Tower management office, Charlotte speaking, how may I help you?”

  He hesitated. “I’m looking for Kelly.”

  “Is there anything I can help you with today?”

  He hated her already. She sounded so fake and insincere. Was it so hard for her to be a person? Why didn’t she answer his question?

  “I’d like to speak to Kelly Driscoll,” he said more firmly.

  “Kelly has been relieved of her position,” Charlotte said in a curt voice. “Is there anything I can—”

  He hung up. Kelly was fired? He tried her cell number again, with the same result.

  He called the car rental agency he’d rented the car from and told them that he was in the hospital and could someone please come and pick up the car from the Rooster Spur Motel, in the northwest corner of the lot. After they agreed, he checked the guru’s Twitter feed again.

  at playland!! any tm gurus wan2 meet up let me know (roller coaster emoji, ice cream cone emoji)

  Af placed the phone on the ledge by the window.

  Changing his mind, he kept the phone. He didn’t strictly need to check the guru’s Twi
tter feed again, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt.

  It was no effort to keep his human form, but it took some effort to revert to his original form, and an enormous amount of food to stay there. All he really had to do to change was visualize it and want it, and mentally put himself there. Within a minute, he was up in the air, crimson-red, skin so thick and tough it was bulletproof. He felt powerful in a way that made him never want to be any other way, which is what made it so hard to revert back.

  He flew higher, with a soaring sense of freedom, getting farther and farther from the most annoying chaos demon in the world.

  A short time later, he arrived in the airspace over Playland, over the initial intense rush of changing back, concerned about Kelly, and not even really thinking about the guru. It was a lovely day, with sun filtered through stratus clouds low in the atmosphere. Playland stretched out before him, bright colors and flashing lights, movement and scents, carnival music and joyful screaming. He passed through the snow and ice particles in the clouds and descended to the middle of Playland.

  He looked for the guru in the Zombie castle, with no luck, checked his Twitter feed again and saw a selfie pic of the guru in front of a mirror, with what looked like a hundred overlapping versions of him.

  The House of Mirrors. Af strode over there, determined, the vibrations from his steps dislodging stuffed animals from the game tents.

  He couldn’t make it through the corridors without smashing the glass by his shoulders, and he wasn’t used to how huge his hands were—it always took some getting used to—and so he kept accidentally hitting the glass, which fell from his sides as he walked.

  When Af finally found the guru, he was so focused on taking more selfies that by the time he heard Af and looked up, there were a thousand Afs, enormous and frightening, like a vision from hell, or a Goya painting.

  The guru quavered and staggered back, reaching out to the glass behind him and clouding it with his handprints. He opened his mouth but no sound came out.