by William Bebb
A very brief peek at Zombies of All Hallows Evil
(The E-Book version Valley of Death Zombie Trailer Park has a considerably longer peek but printed books cost more for every page added. Sorry about that.)
Bo was standing on the balcony of the country club smoking a cigarette and enjoying a second bottle of beer while talking with his old friend, Lopez. “So, you made major? That's not too bad for an old man, like you. Nice bump in pay too, I bet,” Bo said before taking another sip from the bottle.
“Let's just say I'm not hurting. Course, it came at a price,” Lopez said, looking across the deserted golf course and subdivisions beyond. He kicked at the ornamental metal handrail surrounding the balcony before continuing. “Thirty percent layoffs, can you believe that shit?”
“I know the economy sucks everywhere, but thirty percent? Jesus. When did it happen and how are you covering the loss in manpower?” Bo asked, then finished off the bottle.
“About a month after you resigned, the governor announced across the board cutbacks. Then the mayor took a budgetary ax on top of that to the metro cops. All city departments were slashed, not just the police. The worst part was, you weren't the only officer that resigned after that mess in the valley. In all, I think we lost ten good cops. So far, we've been lucky though. We're stretched kind of thin, but at least the governor and mayor seem pleased with themselves.”
“Well don't blame me, I didn't vote for either of them,” Bo said, lighting a fresh cigarette and checking his cell phone screen. The map feature indicated Billy was still at Josey's house. He looked at his old friend and noticed how tired he appeared. “What about you? Why do they have you pulling duty out here for the Mercedes crowd? You look exhausted.”
“The sheriff volunteered me,” Lopez said and yawned before continuing. “And that's after my regular shift, but he wanted someone here looking good for the mayor.” He brushed at the brass buttons of his dress uniform and shook his head.
“The mayor's here?”
Chuckling, Lopez gestured toward the locker room's downstairs. “Yep, and he's involved in a variety of fairly serious felonies at the moment.”
Bo looked confused.
“He helped some of his buddies from Vegas organize a casino night downstairs in the locker room. I saw some of the strippers they brought in to serve drinks, too. They all looked very nice, but kind of young for my taste. I bet not one of them is old enough to drink legally.”
Bo smiled and held up his cell phone asking, “Want me to call one of my buddies who works at the newspaper? That sounds like it could be a great story.”
“It would be fun, but I don't want to go job hunting right now. Besides I got a deputy standing guard down there. The other one's wandering the parking lot, somewhere out there,” Lopez said, gesturing toward the hundreds of expensive luxury cars parked off to the right.
“So, you get to work the party itself? You lucky guy. What's with these rich bastards and the loud music?” Bo asked, gesturing to the sliding glass doors vibrating a few yards away leading to the ball room.
“Yeah, I got earplugs for when I have to go in there. They're acting like idiots running around jumping on each other, trying to give a scare, when they're not spasmodically jerking around... Um, I mean dancing.”
A distant explosion made both men look up across the golf course, where a ball of flames rose into the sky somewhere in the subdivision of houses about a mile away.
“Fuck,” Lopez said, grabbing his radio's microphone. “Major Lopez to headquarters! There's been some kind of explosion and fire over near Bella Mariposa Avenue. Do you read?”
“Yes sir, Mariposa. We'll be sending out units and the fire department,” the dispatcher quickly answered.
“Are you sure that's Mariposa?” Bo asked, staring at the flames then checking his phone.
“Gotta be.”
“Shit, I gotta go! Billy's out somewhere near there! Bo shouted while running for the concrete staircase leading down to the Pro Shop.
“Take one of the golf carts! Just bring it back when you're done!” Lopez yelled, as Bo ran down the stairs shouting back, “Thanks!”
A minute later Lopez lost sight of Bo's cart speeding across the dark gold course and stared back at the distant flames. He was reaching for his earplugs when several distant gunshots joined in with the sirens. More gunshots and a faint scream made Lopez reach for his radio microphone again. He didn't even get to press the button before the band inside suddenly stopped playing, and the overhead florescent lights came on behind him as dozens of screams mixed with shouts inside the ballroom.
Running back to the sliding glass door, he saw a wave of people heading toward him. He just got the door open when they started running past him. Lopez knew he wouldn't be able to get past the torrent of people streaming out and ran for the other end of the building, planning to circle around to the main entrance.
Keying his microphone, he started to speak, “Murphy, Sanchez, we got trouble upstairs! Get your asses-!” Glancing in a window words failed him as he saw a vampire, complete with the requisite long fangs, leaping through the air and landing on top of a woman dressed as a sexy nurse that was holding an oversized tongue depressor.
Lopez pulled his gun and took aim as the man (at least he fervently hoped it was just a man) bit down on the woman’s chest and wrapped his hands around her neck. As he fired the gun, a wave of panic stricken party goers pushed him along with them in their mad dash for the parking lot.
You can get the rest of the novel online at really good booksellers everywhere and, of course, Happy Halloween!
-Bill
P.S. This is a picture of my dog.
His name is Boris.