sorry.
“That is beside the point.” Lucy insisted.
“It’s been months since we last had a breach.” Agnes said, “The walls around Chrismar Valley are high and strong.”
“They got through before.” Lucy insisted, “They could get through again. What are you going to do when that happens? It’s better to be safe than waking up dead and half eaten by a zombie.”
The words tasted foreign in Lucy’s mouth. She never used such crude language. She never referred to the reanimated dead as the z-word.
“How do you wake up dead?” Agnes asked canny.
Lucy closed her eyes and took another deep breath before opening them again. Why could she not get through to Agnes? Was this her punishment for marrying young? She was never a trouble child, nor was she a smarty-pants. What did she do to deserve such a disobedient child?
Agnes could see that she was getting on her mother’s last nerve and decided to call a quits. She nodded her head and turned towards the kitchen.
“Fine.” Agnes sighed, “I will take a switchblade knife.”
Lucy slowly opened her eyes and sighed with relief. How she wished she could get through to her daughter and make her understand the importance of being safe in the dangerous world they lived in. Chrismar Valley might have been a picture perfect little town, but the dead were still clawing at the walls to get to their flesh. Once the disease took a hold of you and you got a taste for human flesh, you’d stop at nothing to get it and taste it between your teeth. It was just a matter of time before the dead found a way in.
TWO
Chrismar Valley was a perfect little town situated in a mountain ravine which stretched about ten miles in each direction. The town was surrounded by thick concrete walls that stretched ten meters up into the sky to keep the undead at bay.
Though the town had a road which led in and out of the town and connected them to other nearby towns; most people preferred not to leave the sanctity of the walls. The town was self-sufficient and had a farm, plenty of shops, a Town Hall complete with a council, a school, a library and a drive-in cinema.
There was no cemetery though, but rather a crematorium. The council ruled that all persons who died had to be cremated within an hour of death in order to prevent them from returning from the dead. Whenever a cremation took place, the aroma of singed hair and burning flesh – which almost smelled like burnt porridge – encroached the entire town.
Agnes frolicked down the sidewalk to the library with the switchblade knife in her clutch-purse. She loved the library; there was some kind of peace she found in reading which she couldn’t find anywhere else. That, and the fact that the librarian’s assistant was a cute boy named Elliot made her return week after week for new reading material. She’d never spoken to him as not to disobey the silence rule of the library, but they’ve exchanged looks and smiles on several occasions.
An automobile drove by playing a Chuck Berry rock ‘n roll song and disappeared into the distance behind her. Once the car was gone, Agnes was left in silence. The sun was slowly setting and because the town was in a ravine, the sun set behind the mountains and nightfall was at about five ‘o clock in the afternoon.
She passed a streetlamp and then all the lights lit up for the night. The library was about a block away and she spotted a few kids coming out of the library. She loved reading; it was her way of escaping her mundane life in Chrismar Valley. She longed for an adventurist life like the stories she read about. She preferred reading some of the older books that were published before the zombie outbreak of 1939; books from before the outbreak told stories about giant metal containers flying in the sky called airplanes. Books that came after the outbreak were a little less exciting.
She’d always wondered what it would be like to fly in an airplane, but she’d probably never get the opportunity. When the virus broke out a decade earlier, all planes were grounded in perpetuity. Now if one looked to the sky, all you would see are birds and clouds.
Her mother could never understand her obsession with yesteryear. Her mother said she should live in the now and then and not reminisce an era she didn’t know. It’s difficult longing for something you never had.
Agnes walked up the front steps of the library and pushed open the gargantuan wooden doors. The aroma of old books dawdled in the air and she knew she was home. She made her way towards the fiction section and walked past Elliot who smiled when he saw her. She shyly smiled back and carried on walking. When she got to the fiction section, she hid behind the first bookshelf and peered out at Elliot. He was the cutest guy in town, but she didn’t have the guts to talk to him – not that talking was allowed in the library.
She took a deep breath and left her fantasies lingering. She browsed through the many titles on the shelf, hoping to find something pre-zombie; something like Dickens, but she’d already read half of the books on the shelf.
Most of the new books were by the three authors living in town and none of them appealed to her much. They were usually about the secluded life in a post-zombie world. It was a life she knew all too well, and didn’t like reading about.
“Hi.” A voice whispered behind her.
She turned around and found herself standing face to face with Elliot. His deep green eyes pierced into her soul and his soft lips called out to be kissed. She giggled nervously and peed a little.
“Hi.” She whimpered excitedly.
“Quiet please.” The librarian called out from somewhere in the library.
Really? Agnes thought, The librarian must have supersonic hearing.
“I’m Elliot.” He whispered.
She wanted to blurt out, I know who you are! I love you! Will you marry me and give me children? Instead she kept her poise and nodded.
“Agnes.” She whispered.
He held out his hand and she shook it. His hands were soft, but not too soft as to be mistaken for woman hands. His hand was perfect.
“Nice to meet you.” Elliot whispered.
“You too.” She whispered back.
“Quiet please.” The librarian’s humdrum voice echoed.
“I’ve been watching you for a while.” He whispered.
She smiled foolishly and asked, “Really?”
He nodded and said, “Yes.”
She foolishly drilled her left foot into the carpet and then looked up at him.
“I was wondering if you might want to join me for a milkshake one evening.” Elliot whispered.
Her stomach filled up with butterflies and she gulped to stop herself from vomiting. Her body always betrayed her when she was nervous, and cute boys made her very nervous.
“Yes.” She said timidly, “I’d like that.”
They stared at each other in silence and then he smiled.
“Are you free tonight?” He whispered.
One of the butterflies in her stomach somehow found its way up her nervous throat and she gagged as a bit of vomit made its way into her dry mouth.
THREE
Despite Agnes making a complete idiot of herself, Elliot was still interested in talking to her. When she checked out three books, Elliot was done with his shift and the two of them went to the Malt Shop across the street from the library. The interior of the Malt Shop was an intense pink – everything was pink and white; the counter was white, the tiles on the floor and wall were white and the couches in the booths were all pink.
Agnes and Elliot sat at a booth next to the doorway and a waitress brought them each a pink menu. Agnes tried her very best not to show how nervous she was. She was already embarrassed enough by the dry heave back in the library. He glanced at her. She smiled and then nervously looked down at the menu.
“They have the best malt milkshakes.” Elliot said.
“I know.” She agreed, “I love the—”
The door opened behind her, banged against the back of Agnes’s seat and the knob struck her in the back of her head.
“Ouch.” She cringed and rubbed her head.
“Are you alright?” He gasped.
The culprit of the assault was oblivious that he hit Agnes and walked over to the counter to order some milkshakes.
“I’m fine.” She said, “It just caught me off guard—”
The door opened once again and bang! The doorknob struck her in the back of her head again.
“Damn it!” Agnes cried out and rubbed her head.
The culprit of the second assault glanced at Agnes, but didn’t make much of her ranting as he walked over to the counter.
“Maybe we should move to another booth?” Elliot suggested.
“I think it would be wise.” Agnes said
She got up just as the door banged against her seat again and she glanced at the person who entered. Elliot smiled warmly and held out his hand.
What a gentleman, she thought as he led her by the hand to the next booth. They sat down again and opened their menus.
“This booth is better.” Elliot said.
“Indeed.” She giggled, “I’ve seen you at the library before…”
“Yes.” Elliot said, “I work there, remember.”
“Of course.” She said foolishly, “What I meant was I’ve noticed you noticing me.”
“I’m sorry if I stared at you.” Elliot said, “It’s just…”
He hesitated and then continued, “It’s just that you are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Not only are you pretty, but you like to read.”
Agnes tried to hide her blushing with a smile and said, “I love to read.”
“And you read the old books, which I like.” He said.
“Post-zombie books are boring.” She said.
“I