Friday Flash - 13A, Part 3
Thursday, December 17, 2009 at 09:10PM 
Part 3 of 4 of the serialized version of my short story 13A. If you're just joining us, read Part 1 and Part 2.
13A
Part 3
Gerald’s mind reeled and the air rushed from his lungs as if he’d been punched in the gut. “I know what zombies are,” he said.
“Well glad to hear it. At least you know what we’re up against.”
“When I said I knew what they were, I didn’t mean…I meant I’d seen movies and all.”
“This ain’t no movie, cowboy. Now you seem like a bright young man but I just can’t let you go out there unarmed and alone. They’ll get you, sure as hell.”
“The zombies?”
“That’s right, and I can’t be letting that happen, can I? From the looks of you, I hardly think you can take care of yourself.”
“Me? What is it about me?”
“You really want me to say? Well, you’re a little fat, for one. I’d hardly bet on you in any fight, not against the living or the dead.”
“No, but don’t you see? That doesn’t matter. You can’t really think an army of zombies are out there. It just makes no sense.”
“They eat the flesh of the living, cowboy.” The old woman’s lip trembled at the words, just a bit, but enough for Gerald to notice. “The living like you and me. What part of that doesn’t make sense to you?”
“I have to go.”
“You’re staying. I mean it.”
“Mrs. Kratz, you’ve been more than kind but I think I’ll be taking my chances.” He made a rush for the door and had the knob in his fist when he heard that familiar sharp click. He wheeled to see the shotgun again cocked and pointed dead level, right at his chest. “What are you doing?”
“Get the hell away from that door.”
“Are you going to shoot me?”
“I’d rather have you die with your dignity than let them get you. And they will get you, sure as hell, if you go back out there.”
Gerald kept his eyes on the gun. “Mrs. Kratz. Listen. No one’s going to get me.”
“And how can you be sure?”
“Because they’re not real. Zombies aren’t real.”
“Not real? Not real? Well go on over to that window and see for yourself, smart guy.” She motioned with the barrel of the shotgun.
Gerald let the knob slip from his fingers and staggered over to a window that suddenly seemed miles away, eyes trained on the unwavering barrels of the shotgun. His legs felt as if they might send him collapsing to the floor. “Mrs. Kratz. Please.” His own voice sounded strange to him, distant.
“Look out that window, cowboy. You’ll see.”
Gerald walked over to the window, his legs weak, rested his palms on the sill, and gazed down at the street below. Shock sent his mind reeling.
The street was empty.
There were no women in pant suits hurrying along the sidewalk on their way to a late breakfast, no joggers with iPod buds in their ears, no bums wearing ratty jackets and knit caps, no mothers pushing strollers. Not a car drove past. Aside from a single plastic bag floating in the wind, there was no movement at all from the street below.
“You see?”
Gerald kept his gaze out the window. Shouldn’t there at least be someone? Anyone? “This could mean a lot of things, Mrs. Kratz. A lot of things.”
“Such as?”
“Could just be coincidence. Or a flu bug. You know, that swine flu that’s been on TV.”
“Flu bug. I’m guessing you don’t read the papers you steal from me, do you, cowboy?”
Gerald looked toward the issue of USA Today that now lay refolded on Mrs. Kratz’ kitchen table. “Never seen anything in there about zombies.”
Mrs. Kratz shuffled across the carpet and snatched the paper from the table. A glossy leaflet fluttered to the floor. “Stuff like that won’t be on the front page. They’re too swept up in Paris Hilton and how fast food makes you fat.” She flipped through the pages with the nimble fingers of a woman half her age. “Here.” She thrust the paper into Gerald’s chest.
He looked at the headline that spanned the top of page 12.
Mystery Illness Spreads North
Baffled officials trace the source to Peruvian meteor
Mrs. Kratz grabbed the paper. “See what I mean?”
“Not really.”
“Let me to explain. You may want to sit back down for this.” She motioned to the sofa but Gerald didn’t budge. “A week ago I saw the first headline. A meteor crashed somewhere in the jungle, Portugal or somewhere.”
“Paper there says Peru.”
“That must be it then. Anyway, the next day there’s this little article about the people in the little village getting sick, just dropping dead from some mystery disease. I start thinking, maybe it’s that meteor. Two days later another little article, more people dying. Now it’s people that weren’t even near the meteor getting sick, catching it from those that were. That’s when I started gettin’ worried, went to the Costco and got some supplies just in case.” She pointed behind her at the pile of cans and water stacked against the wall. “Glad I did too because first thing this morning, I hear on CNN that this disease from Peru is spreading faster than a damn wildfire and coming this way. The television went all to hell right after that. I can’t pick up a thing anymore.”
Gerald staggered to the couch just as his knees gave way, collapsing in a heap. “Mrs. Kratz. Please. This is crazy.” He tried his best to keep his voice even but fear, like a vice clamped to his chest, pressed in on him from all sides.
Come back Christmas Day for the stunning conclusion!
Reader Comments (1)
Oh those Peruvian meteors!
Laughed in many places. Women in pantsuits, Paris Hilton, fast food and fat...
Maybe a nice Pisco Sour will help.
O.k. can't wait for the conclusion. Will be stunned, I'm sure. :)