Dumb White Husbands vs. Zombies: Monday
Six
“Look at them. They’re just crossing right through my yard.”
The three men stood at the window gazing into the street. Several creatures shuffled around. If they knew that there were men in the house, they didn’t seem to care.
Chris watched what was once a woman limp down the middle of the street. “What could have caused this?”
John shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter?” Chris asked. “How can you say that?”
“It doesn’t matter what caused it. Tomorrow, the sun will come up, the cops or army or whoever will come out, and it will all be over.”
Chris turned away from the window. “John, you realize what’s going on here, right?”
“Don’t say zombies.”
“But they are zombies. The dead have risen and now walk the earth.”
“So? Tomorrow, we’ll put them all back and tell them to stay there.”
“I’ll admit this is all pretty hard to believe. But if they rose from the dead like zombies, don’t you think they’ll spread like zombies?”
“Look at those things, Chris.” John pointed back out the window. One creature was trying to cross the street but had trouble mounting the curb. It tripped and caught itself with its arm. The arm shattered and the creature collapsed face first to the ground.
“That’s your big threat. Who’s stupid enough to get bitten by one of those things?”
Chris pointed to his neck. “How’s the hickey?”
“Shut up. That was different. He surprised me and ... and there was Schnapps everywhere.”
Chris turned back to the window. “I don’t think this is going to go away anytime soon.”
Erik had remained silent throughout the argument. “Do you think they’re sick?”
Chris answered. “They’re dead, Erik. What difference does it make?”
“If it was a disease, they could be cured.”
“But even if you cure them, they’d just go back to being dead,” John said.
Erik shrugged and continued to stare out the window.
“Oh, look at this one.” John pointed out a new creature that had just wandered into view. Though the tatters of his suit matched that of the others, he had more meat left on his body. He had obviously been a large man in life and had taken the weight to his grave.
Chris laughed. “What do you think killed that guy?”
John looked out the window. “Gym accident?”
“He’s the first one I’ve seen with any meat on him.”
“Yeah, all the rest are pretty emaciated. Maybe they were dead for so long they forgot they weren’t alive.”
Erik turned away from the window. “So, what do we do?”
The complete lack of ideas was interrupted by a piercing tone from the living room. The squawk broke the static.
Erik jumped. “What the hell?”
“Calm down. It’s just the Emergency Broadcast thing. I’ll go turn it off.”
“John, don’t you think maybe we should watch it?”
“It’s always just a test. It’s not like the bombs are falling.”
“But, zombies.”
John shook his head and stepped out of the room.
Back in the living room, the static had been broken by the EBS. The voice that followed the tone was not the recorded robot voice that so often interrupted the game. It was a man’s voice and he sounded scared.
“The Emergency Broadcast System has been activated at the request of the Unite States government to inform you that .... uh ... well, zombies. There have been confirmed sightings of animated corpses roaming the streets of every major city. Residents are being advised to stay in their homes. I repeat, do not attempt to leave your homes. Do not attempt to confront the ... zombies. Lock your doors and wait for further instructions. Do not go outside.”
The tone sounded again and the message began to repeat. John turned off the TV. “There you have it. Zombies. Told you.”
Erik had found a place on the couch. “So, what do we do?”
“I’m going to bed.” John set the remote on the TV console. “You guys can crash on the couch. Stay out of the fridge.”
“What?” Erik stood. “We can’t just go to bed.”
“The hell I can’t. So far tonight I’ve almost been beaten up by jocks, a corpse made out with me, my house smells like Peach Schnapps and I’ve just discovered that I might be spending the end of the world with two of the people I hate the most. I’m done. That’s it for me.”
Erik yelled. “How can you sleep? Your family is out there.”
“Are you kidding me? They’re safer in that RV than we are in this house. That thing is a fortress. The admiral’s got it wired with cameras and I have no doubt he packs a small arsenal under his pillow. Plus, he’s a mean bastard. He likes shooting at people whether they’re dead or not. They’re safer with the senile Rambo than I am here with the Homerun King and his sidekick Mr. Weedeater.”
“Why am I the sidekick?”
Chris lowered himself to the couch. He looked as if he was going to throw up. “I hope Rachel and the kids are okay.”
“I’m sure they’re fine. You’ll hear from them as soon as the phones clear up. Now let’s all get some sleep.”
Erik began to protest, “But ...”
“But, what? Do you want to run out there in the dark and try and solve this problem now? If we go to sleep the chances are it will all be taken care of in the morning.”
Chris was pale. “You still think that?”
“Sure. The cops will come through and kill all of the zombies.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Everything will be fine in the morning.”
Erik began to speak, but John stopped him. “And, I’ll make pancakes. For everyone. Deal?”
Chris nodded. “He’s right, Erik. We should all get some rest. But we should sleep in shifts.”
“Good idea. You two talk about who goes first and tell me how it worked out in the morning. Good night, Splitheads.”
Chris held up John’s bat. “John, aren’t you worried that they’ll get in here?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. That one practically fell apart when I shoved it. And you guys took down a few of them, so how tough could they be?”
Erik nodded, “I guess you’re right. I’ll take the first shift. I’ve got to get up early for work anyway.”
John laughed. “Work?”
“Yeah, work.”
“I don’t think there’ll be work in the morning.”
“Maybe not for you, but my office is always open.”
“Erik,” Chris said, “this isn’t some bad weather day. This could very well be the apocalypse. I think that justifies a sick day.”
“You don’t understand. I’m trying to get a promotion. If I show up when everyone else is out, it’ll look good. It works the same with snow days.”
“Wait,” Chris shook his head. “You’re telling me that if you’re the only one in your office dumb enough to go out in dangerous weather, they’ll think you’re smart enough to help run the company?”
“You don’t get ahead by staying in bed. That’s what they say at my office, anyway.”
Chris was bewildered. “So, I guess if someone wraps themselves around a telephone pole, they’ll make him president.”
“Well, maybe. If they don’t die.”
“Chris is right, Erik. I don’t think any of us are going to work tomorrow.”
“I’ve got a big project going on ...”
Chris shot up from the couch. “The dead are walking the streets, you idiot. Tomorrow we’ll wake up to a world with no order, no infrastructure. Tomorrow we’ll wake up to a world in total chaos.”
John slung the bat over his shoulder. “No, gentlemen. Let’s say Chris is right. Let’s say these crumbly zombies do happen to bite some idiots.”
Chris pointed at his n
eck.
“Shut up, Chris. And let’s say those idiots bite more idiots and the world begins to crawl with legions of the living dead. Then, tomorrow we’ll wake up to a world with no rules. Zombie day is the ultimate snow day. No work. No responsibilities. No HOA. No bowling. We’ll be able to do anything we want. And there won’t be anyone to stop us.”
Continued in:
Dumb White Husbands vs. Zombies: Tuesday
or
Get the entire series in the
Dumb White Husbands vs. Zombies: The Zomnibus
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