Please note: The following free read is an epilogue for D. Dye’s Zapocalypse, and as such contains spoilers for the story. Oh, and it’s definitely Not Safe For Work.
You’ve been warned. 🙂
Furballs From Hell by D. Dye
The zombies had been wiped out and the town should have been all clear for a new beginning. Unfortunately, for us they left something behind.
“What the hell kind of rabid furball do you suppose that was?”
“Ginger if I had any idea, I doubt either of us would still be standing here wondering.”
Lately, there had been all kinds of odd sightings. Animals that well, couldn’t or shouldn’t have been. Mick thought it was just over-active imaginations. I wasn’t so sure anymore
The image of Gingers golden-red hair seemingly aflame in the suns setting rays momentarily calmed my dark apprehensions. That was until her shotgun leveled at the rustling bushes and the strange varmint hidden within.
The two-way radio crackled to life with the sound of Mick’s troubled voice following.
“Heads up girls, just got word two other cow carcasses have been found.”
“Yeah, good point, but something seems so fucked up about saying, cow zombies. Ya know?”
Yeah I did understand. Same shit I thought when we encountered the damn armadillo zombie. What-the-fuck?
His voice sounded weary. We’d been battling these animals for quite some time now and every time we thought we’d gotten things under control, another damn critter turned up.
I dropped the radio, looking up to see smoke wisps’ rising from Ginger’s gun. There, lying dead at her feet, were the bloody remains of what appeared to be a coyote. We both stared at the mangled remnants that were dog-like. Four legs, part of an extended jaw and fangs. Big bloodstained gnarly canines? Far bigger than I thought your average coyotes should be.
“I didn’t think we had coyotes in these parts.” She bitched as if not having blown the head off one just seconds before.
“They’ve migrated down, according to the local papers.” However, something seemed off with my statement, even as the words left my mouth.
“Want to catch a movie?”
“Sure whatcha wanna see?” I answered as my stomach grumbled in protest at having been denied lunch. Sorry, call me crazy but seeing brain matter, even being from animals sprawled out in front of me, resembling someone’s bad version of cranberry salad. It didn’t do much for my appetite. I took another swig from my coke in an attempt to appease it
“Okay, now don’t go getting all judgmental and shit, but they’re having marathons of old black and white horror flicks down at the historic theater. The Crawling Eye, The hand and It Came from Outer Space.”
I couldn’t stop. Coke burned its way through my nostrils before exiting across the table. Ginger jumped up and began pounding on my back.
“Damn, I said don’t go judging!”
After I’d gulped in a precarious breath, I still hadn’t recovered my voice to say what I wanted. All I could muster was shooting her a nasty look.
“Oh c’mon, it would be a blast! Remember your mom telling us how much she loved those old classics?”
I did. In some vague memory, I saw her face, beaming as she recounted her stories of sneaking in to them with her older brother. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
“Give me a few to change. Wanna grab something at the diner 1st?” At one time, that statement would have caused us both to lose our appetites. Ever since the night of the Zapocalypse however, the town hailed as heroes. We didn’t see it that way. We simply did what needed to be done, nothing more, nothing less. Regardless, the town had embraced us. Overalls, man boobs the works, unfortunately.
As my shirt reached my head, I felt hands undo my bra strap. Ginger.
My skin heated and every pore on my body came alive in anticipation of Gingers next move.
My shirt hadn’t cleared my head when hands reached around cupping my breasts…kneading and working them with a sense of familiarity. The unease from the day stripped away faster than my clothes currently were.
“Mmm, now this is heavenly.” Ginger sighed into my ear, the moist heat drawing my nipples to tight buds.
“Muum huhh.” I managed as those magical hands of hers moved to my shoulders and massaged before slipping the straps from my arms and roving lower.
My head lolled back to rest on her shoulder where I kissed and nibbled my way over her elegant neck. I felt her hands breach my jeans as she toyed with the delicate skin just under its band. Patience be damned!
“Oh hell no.” I snatched at the button of my low riders, as I whirled ready to strip Ginger of her sundress, and found her already nude, ready.
We fell into the mattress, a tumble of locks and limbs of need and desire.
I racked my leg gently through her parted legs and caught the hitch in her breathing. I intensified my pressure and trembled myself as her she applied her own bit of pressure.
Her fingers toyed through my lips seeking the hard nubbin that was now pulsating and making me jumpy and itchy in my own skin.
I mimicked her move, replacing my knee with my hand as my mouth sought one of Gingers special pink pearls. I loved her trembles and sighs. Knowing when she was happy and content with the world, made me happy and content with the world.
Any thoughts or worries about the strange furry zombies gone.
Her legs parted and I knew what she wanted and times like this when I knew how very lucky I truly was.
“Told ya so. We needed a good laugh, and nothing like these old classics to bring some about.”
“Alright, I had fun. Crawling Eye and all.” I tossed our popcorn bucket in the garbage as we headed out the door.
We hadn’t taken three steps when we saw Mick’s truck barrel up, skidding to a halt in front of us.
“I’ve been looking for you guys all evening.”
“Dude movies equals phones off. Or at least for those polite few of us,” Ginger said before slurping the last of her coke down.
“What’s up?” I asked with a sinking feeling. If he was here to tell us we had more cow zombies mooing about, I would go postal on someone.
“Remember the coyote you took out earlier?”
“Yeah. Sucker flew out of those damn bushes. Not zombie sluggish at all, let me tell you,” Ginger stated, concern reflected in her eyes.
“Well, apparently wasn’t a coyote at all.”
“What the hell was it then?” I really dreaded the answer.
“Doc’s not sure. Just the DNA isn’t right for a coyote or any other animal in his database.”
“So, I killed some possibly rare animal?” Ginger squeaked, no doubt worrying she’d wiped out an entire species in one shot. Leave it to Ginger, to worry about such in a new environment of zombie animals.
“Not exactly. More like you shot some newly created species.”
“Newly created? What the hell is that shit?” She questioned.
“Get this. Doc says the DNA structuring is some odd shit. Like human manipulated kind of shit.”
“What?” Ginger and I both asked.
“Think Island of Dr. Moreau kind of animal. Cross breeds with highly mutated DNA.”
“So let me get this shit straight. Not only are we fighting zombie animals, but supped up animal zombies?”
Mick nodded solemnly.
“Hell yeah!” Ginger suddenly exclaimed.
Mick’s brows rose in unison with mine.
“What? Don’t look at me like that. I fucking took out Cujo!”
Oy. She was really beginning to worry me with this sudden love of guns and using them!
“So am I correct to assume Dr. Frankin fucker Jonathan dude took to screwing with animals and not just humans?”
“It’s looking that way. Better that it’s him, than finding out we have another madman running around.”
“Well, what’s he said?” I asked.
“Dunno yet. The sheriff and the FBI have been talking, but I haven’t heard back yet.”
Mick had parked and the three of us were still debating the recent events, when moviegoers suddenly started fleeing the theater amid screams and utter pandemonium.
“Fuck this can’t be good,” Mick bellowed turning his baseball cap rim backwards.
He reached into the truck and pulled out two shotguns, handing one to me and ignoring Gingers protest. It was almost a shame no one in town questioned anyone having multiple guns in their vehicles or homes anymore.
Mick and I leveled our guns. For what we had no idea. We just knew something wicked this way come.
“Ruh Roh,” Ginger whispered from behind us and though I couldn’t see her, sensed she was still pouting at being left out of the current gun toting.
We held our ground and our breath.
“What-the-fuck-is-that?” I wasn’t sure whether to shoot, or take a fucking picture.
A panther slunk out the movie theaters doors. Its eyes were red and crazed and it had a bullet hole visible in rear flank, but that’s not what was shocking about this zombie panther.
“Jesus Mary and Joseph!” Mick sputtered.
It wasn’t the panther, nor the fact the damn thing was clearly dead…it was its color.
“It’s fucking pink!” Ginger mumbled.
“At least it’s not an elephant,” I stuttered.