by Gayle Katz
“That’s my girl,” said her dad, immensely proud of her, despite what had happened.
Zan headed back to the house. She mended the dents in the walls and even found a can of leftover paint. Soon all the furniture was back in its place.
“What a bunch of shit,” Zan said, thinking about the night before. “Someone must have dropped something in my drink.”
Chapter 3
________________________________________
The family was seated around the kitchen table, finishing breakfast.
“Zan, I’ve thought up the perfect punishment,” said her dad.
“Great, because being grounded simply isn’t enough,” she commented.
“Well, you did fix up the damage to the house, and did a fantastic job of cleaning up, but we don’t think it’s enough,” explained her mother.
“So, we’ve decided that you can volunteer at the immigration center for a week or so,” continued her dad.
“Um, OK?” said Zan. That actually sounded kind of cool.
Her mother slammed her mug down on the table. “Say what? I thought we’d agreed on having her volunteer at the hospital?” She turned and glared at her husband.
“I think the immigration center would give her a more worldly view. Like, parties aren’t what it’s all about. There are people who aren’t safe in their own countries and they need to move here. Many teens can’t even leave their homes, let alone party, and they’d be forbidden to drink alcohol. Besides, I thought you were against Zan working in a medical environment. Maybe she can give the kids some music lessons?”
Her mother just continued to glare at her husband. “Did you know that the immigration center is at the airport?”
He shrugged. “She has a passport and they’ll give her a backstage pass, or whatever those things are called.”
“But it’s so far away.” She stumbled to think of more objections but couldn’t.
Zan smiled. “It’s all right. It sounds like a cool idea.”
“It is,” said her dad. “They’re having people come in from Uganda. It’ll be great meeting people from around the world.”
Zan smiled. “OK, volunteer work coming up.” She got up and put her dishes in the dishwasher. As she left the kitchen, she heard her parents arguing. Nothing new about that. They always argued over something about her.
zzz
Zan was in her room reading when she heard a pattering at the window. She got up and looked out. Down below was Frankie.
“What does she want?” muttered Zan to herself.
Frankie was frantically motioning for her to come outside. Zan nodded. She guessed that it would be OK to go into the backyard. She left her room and went down the stairs.
“Hey, dear, we’re heading to the store. Want anything?” asked Mom, purse in hand.
She shook her head to the negative.
“Well, try not to have any wild parties while we’re away, OK?” said Dad.
“Right,” she replied. She waited for them to pull out of the driveway, and then went to the back door. She opened it and called out. “Hello? You can come inside.”
A moment later, Frankie came out from behind a bush and walked up the steps. “Thanks for seeing me on short notice. I don’t have your number or anything.”
“Good,” said Zan. “So, what’s up?” She took a seat at the table.
Frankie followed her and sat down. “Well, I was wondering if you’d seen any more zombies?”
Zan shook her head. “Nah, the drugs wore off, fortunately.”
Frankie pulled something out of her bag and placed it on the table. “Oh, before I forget.” She pulled a small box out of her bag and placed that on the table too.
Zan peered at the objects. “Um, a gun and ammunition? Are you in some sort of joke gang or something?”
Frankie laughed. “No. But it’s important to be able to protect yourself if you see zombies. Since you’re now officially a zlayer, you are immune if you get bitten. However, you aren’t immune to them taking big chunks out of your flesh. You can still bleed to death or suffer a heart attack or cardiac arrest. It’s best to kill them before they kill you. Or try and eat your brother.” She grimaced.
Zan started laughing then. This was all too much. She thought it was hilarious. Zombies, zlayers, and guns.
“Umm?” Frankie tried to get a word in, but Zan just kept laughing. “Oh, and this too.” Frankie rummaged around in her bag, then pulled out a small red velvet box and put it on the table.
“What’s that?” Zan managed to get out between laughs. “A diamond engagement ring?”
Frankie laughed. “Nope. It’s a magic bullet. This is the bullet that will take the zleader down.”
“Zleader? Really? Do you just make up words in zombie land?” Zan started toying with the placemat. She wondered if she could get rid of Frankie before school started. Then she snuck a peek at the gun.
“That’s a zombie leader. And yes, there are made up words in zombie land. Anyway, the leader is super strong. She has extra magic.”
Zan looked up. “Is the zleader always female too, like a zlayer?”
“Yes, most of the time.”
“Why is that?” asked Zan.
She shrugged. “Because women make better leaders and fighters?”
Zan had a big smile on her face. “That’s one thing I like.”
“So, be sure to hide the gun. If you have young kids in the house, then lock up the gun. Don’t put the ammunition in until you need it.”
“I’ve taken lessons before. I know how to use a gun, thank you very much. This is Oregon after all.” She peered at it. “So, I just carry it in my bag?”
Frankie nodded. “Yes, and remember to shoot them in the head if you see them. But if you see the zleader, use the magic bullet. I’m sorry, but there is only one. These are extremely difficult to create. They require a long incantation and several hours to make.”
Zan pulled the red box closer and peered inside it. “Who does the incantation?”
She laughed. “Me. I’m in the process of making another one, but these things take time. Sometimes I do it and it doesn’t work.”
“Really? How long have you been a mentor?”
Frankie looked nervously around the room. “About twenty-four hours. I had a dream that I was one. Then, the next morning, five zombies showed up on my doorstep, like magic. I took them out. Then, I disposed of the bodies. I also had a dream about you, and where you lived. That’s why I sent my brother to the party, then I showed up later.”
Zan stared at her. “You dreamt these things?”
She nodded.
“Oh crap! I forgot. Is there really a body in my closet?” She looked around. If there was, it was a good thing her parents hadn’t found out! She didn’t know how to take all of this. There seemed to be some truth to these things.
“Yes, that’s another reason why I came by. We need to get rid of that body.”
Zan jumped up and headed to the hallway. Frankie followed her down the hall and into the office. Zan rushed forward and pulled open the closet door.
“Oh shit! I was really hoping that was part of the drugs,” said Zan in dismay.
Frankie walked up and patted her on the arm. “Look, Zan, there are no drugs. This is all real.”
With a frown on her face, Zan looked down at the body on the ground. She pulled off the blanket to confirm that there was really a dead zombie in her house. There was. She covered her nose, as it was starting to smell. Its skin was a deadly shade of gray. She leaned forward to check, but it was definitely dead.
“I suggest we get it on top of the blanket, wrap it up, and get rid of it.”
“Um, OK,” said Zan. If she stayed busy, she could forget what it actually was.
The girls struggled, but they managed to drag the body on top of the blanket. They easily pulled it down the hall, through the kitchen, and down the steps. Zan waited while Frankie got her car and drove it around to the back. She pu
lled up as close as she could, despite one car being in the driveway.
“I can move it,” said Zan. “I only have my learner’s, but I’m competent.”
“That’s OK,” said Frankie. “It’s close enough.”
They covered the body with the blanket. The fencing on both sides of the house would be enough to block the neighbors from snooping. They pulled the body to the trunk of her vehicle, and then Frankie jumped inside the trunk and helped pull the body inside, while Zan pushed.
Finally, Frankie was able to jump out and slam the trunk shut.
“Now what?” asked Zan.
“Now, I make it go away, and you stay quiet and wait.”
“I wait?” asked Zan.
“Yes,” said Frankie. “Wait for the zombies.” Frankie held out her hand. “Welcome to the club.”
Zan took her hand. She smirked as they shook hands. Then, as they let go, she felt like she had clarity in her mind. Yes, there really were zombies in the world, and yes, she was a zlayer. It was strange that she was so calm about it.
Frankie headed to the driver’s side door. “Oh, and one more thing. Don’t tell anyone about this, not even your best friend, or your parents.”
“Got it,” said Zan, smiling.
“I might give you a call. Oh, I guess I need your number.”
The girls quickly exchanged numbers, and then Frankie drove off with the zombie body in her trunk.
As she drove away, Zan wondered where she was taking the body. But then, perhaps, it was best to not ask too many questions. As far as Zan knew, it was still a crime to kill a zombie, even when they were a real threat.
Zan went back inside and wiped down the closet. She tossed the blanket in the trash. Using it again would just be gross.
She then grabbed the gun and the ammunition off the table and placed them in a secure spot in her bedroom.
Her phone rang.
“Yes?” she asked, answering it.
“Hey, Zan. It’s me, Frankie. Do me a favor? Pack your gun for your volunteer work at the immigration center tomorrow.”
“But that’s at the airport? Are you serious? And how did you know I would be there?”
“Oh, I ran into your dad at the hospital. It was me who suggested you volunteer there.” She hung up.
Zan looked at her phone. Just what had she gotten herself into? Was she going to end up in prison before she even had the chance to start 10th grade?
Then she thought about how pissed off her parents would be. That would actually be hilarious. She grabbed the gun and ammunition out of the hiding spot and placed them into her bag for tomorrow.
Chapter 4
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“This is stupid,” said Zan, as she entered the international side of the airport. What if her gun set off a metal detector? Perhaps her so-called mentor, Frankie, didn’t really know so much after all.
She followed the directions she had printed onto a small piece of paper. She walked past a long lineup of passengers waiting to enter through a security zone.
“Nakkonde family, welcome to the United States. I see you’re headed for Portland. Please have a good trip,” called out one of the security officers handing back their documents.
Zan had a quick glance at them before walking down to the end of the vast building. There was a door with a placard that said IMMIGRATION CENTER. She opened it and peered in. Inside was a reception area. The door slipped closed behind her.
She walked up to the desk, trying to figure out if she’d have to go through a metal detector in the room ahead.
“Hi. I’m Zan. I’m volunteering for immigration services,” she explained to the receptionist.
“Please come this way for training,” the man instructed.
Zan followed him through to the back. They walked down a long hallway, and then he opened a door for her.
“Training is happening down there, between the fast food joint and the spa place.”
“Great, thanks!” said Zan. She saw a door that had IMMIGRATION SERVICES on it in the distance. As she walked down the corridor, she realized that she was past the security zone. How odd. So employees can bypass the security protocols or was it a security flaw? Or did someone just forget to walk her out through the correct door? When she peered back, she saw that they had walked through an “Emergency Exit Only” door. How did that work? Had the guy been under a spell?
Zan shrugged and had a look around. So far, there was nothing out of the ordinary. She really doubted there would be zombies running around here, otherwise security would be on them pretty fast.
She watched as a massage therapist worked on the shoulders of a businessman. These were quick spa services to help relax travelers before their flights.
She continued to watch as the therapist finished the massage. The man raised his head from the headrest. He had a scowl on his face and his eyes glowed green. He promptly turned and bit the massage therapist.
There was a scream, and then suddenly, all chaos broke out at the airport.
“Cool,” said Zan, smiling.
But first, she ran up to the office where she was supposed to be going and headed inside.
zzz
“There’s an incident at the airport so it’s advised that locals return home,” said the receptionist inside the office. “You can come back for training some other time.”
“See you then,” said Zan. She went out. There was still chaos in the airport. She heard shots fired and briefly wondered if zombies had come in on a plane. She quickly ducked into the nearest bathroom. She tied her hair up with a hair band, and wiped the makeup from her face. She donned a baseball cap and tacky glasses. She even changed her shirt and pants.
Finally, she left the bathroom. She was ready for some zombie action.
zzz
The security officers weren’t fazed that she had a gun. She just told them she was undercover and had a permit for the weapon. She and the officers blocked the length of a long hallway.
Ahead of them, an army of zombies was on the way.
“How’d they get in?” Zan asked the guy next to her.
“Something about zombies on a plane,” he answered. “I’d heard these guys were real, but it’s kind of surreal.”
“Well, shoot them in the head,” she advised. “It kills them more efficiently.”
“So the movies are true,” he answered.
The zombie horde was loud and moaning. Soon, Zan and the officer couldn’t hear each other above the noise.
It seemed like the zombies were coming closer and closer, yet no one was shooting. They were hesitant. These were still people.
“You’ve got to shoot!” yelled out Zan. She raised her firearm and shot. The bullet hit the closest zombie in the skull and he dropped to the ground.
This made the zombie horde even more agitated. They seemed to have gained a surge of energy and bolted forward.
Finally, the officers started firing.
When the first line of zombies went down, the others stepped on their bodies. Some toppled over, only to be stepped on themselves. The zombies were getting closer. Despite a large wall of dead zombie bodies piling up in front of the officers, their shots weren’t making a dent.
“Retreat!” one of them called out.
Zan moved with them.
“They’re all over the place!” yelled someone from near the spa.
Zan frantically looked around. She saw that one of the planes managed to take off, and hoped that everyone was safely onboard. Outside, things appeared to be normal. There were several people who were running down the hallway, hoping to get back outside through the main entrance.
Zan’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out and looked at it.
“What’s happening?” texted Frankie. “It’s on the news that there was some sort of terrorist attack at the airport.”
“Not terrorists,” she texted back. “Zombies. A whole shitload of them.”
“Crazy,” the
next text said. “I’ll be there soon. Where R U?”
“Inside the international part where the spa and stores are.”
“C U soon.”
Zan put her phone away.
zzz
“What’s happening?” asked Frankie.
“Not much at the moment. The officers are keeping the zombies on the other side of the airport. The police are also here. They had a big argument,” said Zan, catching her up on things.
“Why?” Frankie asked.
“Something about shooting rather than using Tasers.”
“Tasers won’t work on zombies.”
“That’s what they made clear. Anyway, some of the police officers finally saw the zombies and believed the security officers.”
“Good,” she said, “but they’re still lurking around here.”
Zan had a look around. “I think what we need to do is lure them out of here.”
“Yes, that’s always a good plan. Do you have anything that makes noise?”
Zan pulled her smartphone out of her bag.
“Good! Do you have some super annoying music on there? Something that would lead the zombies to us?”
Zan flicked through her music menu. “Yeah, I have lots, mostly current stuff.”
“Yeah! That’s perfect!” Frankie looked around. “OK, I know there’s a gate around the corner. With luck, we can lead them out there, through it, and have them drop down to the ground. Once down, we can kill them.”
“OK, but we’ll have to find one without a plane attached.” Zan started walking in the direction of the nearest gate. A voice spewed from her smartphone. She tapped her phone and cranked it up even louder.
“That’s awful,” said Frankie, “but also good in a way.”
The girls walked to the gate. They were in luck, as there was no one there and no plane in the hanger.
“Do you see any yet?” asked Zan, peering down to the door.