Read No Zombies Allowed Page 4


  “Happy Fourth of July,” Hugh yelled, then ducked as some explosives nearly missed his head. God, he loved this neighborhood!

  Dead Charlie

  “Charlie, why don’t you let me drive you home?”

  Georgina stood next to her co-worker, waiting for him to finish cleaning up the last of the dishes. She would help him, but Charlie didn’t want anyone else doing “his” dishes. Last time she’d tried to help he’d insisted on rewashing every dish she had done.

  “My bike won’t fit in the back of your car, you know that. No sense taking me home and leaving me without a way to work in the morning.”

  “I’ll pick you up. Charlie, it’s dark out and I worry you’ll get hit.”

  “I’ll be fine Georgie. I ride my bike to and from work every day and have never had a problem.”

  “There’s always a first time,” Georgina muttered.

  ***

  The next morning Georgina unlocked the doors. Turning the ovens on, she pulled vegetables from the freezer. Flipping on a small TV, Georgina listened to the announcer talk about an accident that had occurred the night before.

  Georgina glanced at the television. A familiar bike was on the screen and lying next to it the same ball cap she had seen Charlie wear every day. The knife Georgina was holding clattered to the ground.

  ***

  “It was a nice funeral,” Eddie said, looking around at the others. All of Charlie’s co-workers had gathered to have a small dinner in remembrance of Charlie. It was Georgina’s idea. She believed someone should do something for him since he didn’t have any family.

  “It was very nice,” Heather agreed.

  The crew all sat there in silence for a moment. “Well,” Danielle said, “I’d better get going, have to work tomorrow.”

  “Me too,” Heather said, standing.

  Gathering up her coat, Georgina glanced at the dishes. “Leave them,” she said to Eddie, “I’ll do them up in the morning.”

  ***

  Georgina unlocked the doors to The Shake Shack and turned on the lights. Yawning, she went into the walk in and gathered the vegetables. Lost in thought, she almost didn’t notice the dishes clanging and banging behind her. Turning to see who had come in to help, Georgina stared at the figure standing at the sink. Then she dropped her knife and fainted.

  “You okay Georgie?”

  Georgina opened her eyes and looked up into Charlie’s face. “I’m fine,” Georgina said, sitting up. “I had a shock is all.”

  “Quite a mess this morning,” Charlie said, turning back to the sink. “Whoever closed last night left all these dishes sitting out in the dining room.”

  “That was me Charlie,” Georgina said. “I was tired and figured I could do them in the morning.”

  “That’s alright Georgie, I’ll take care of them.”

  “Charlie, what are you doing here?”

  “What do you mean,” Charlie asked. “It’s Tuesday, I always work on Tuesdays.”

  “Charlie, you’re dead. Your funeral was yesterday.”

  “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard If I were dead, would I be walking around?”

  Georgina couldn’t argue with his logic, but she also couldn’t argue with the fact that his head was bent at an odd angle and he had brain matter coming out of his skull.

  When Heather and Danielle came into work, Georgina pulled them off to the side.

  “What do you mean he doesn’t know he’s dead,” Danielle squeaked.

  “He doesn’t know,” Georgina said. “I think it’s best to let him keep working today and when I close up tonight I’ll take him back to the cemetery and explain it all to him.

  “What if he doesn’t want to stay,” Heather asked.

  “Well he doesn’t have a choice, now does he,” Georgina said.

  ***

  The next day Georgina opened up the restaurant. She was in the middle of her morning routine when she heard singing coming from the bathroom. Going to investigate, she found Charlie cleaning the mirrors.

  “Charlie, what are you doing here?”

  “It’s Wednesday,” Charlie said. “I always clean the bathrooms every Wednesday morning.”

  “You’re dead Charlie. We talked about this last night.”

  “I know,” Charlie said, “but I don’t feel dead and I like to work. I have my routine.”

  When Eddie and Heather came in later Georgina caught them up to speed on what was going on.

  “I don’t know if I can work like this,” Eddie said, keeping his voice low as Charlie walked by. “He’s beginning to smell.”

  Georgina couldn’t argue; Charlie was beginning to rot. “We’ll keep him in the back, away from the customers. I’ll explain it to him.”

  ***

  “Charlie, we’ve had another complaint.” Georgina stood next to Charlie trying to breathe through her mouth as she spoke. It had been two weeks since he had decided he would rather work at The Shake Shack than lie in the ground.

  “What about?”

  “Mrs. Williams found this in her salad.”

  Charlie looked at the ear Georgina was holding out to him. Reaching up he felt for his and discovered the right one was missing. “I’m sorry Georgina.”

  “Didn’t I tell you to stay away from the food when Joy McMurray found a fingernail in her fries?”

  “Yes,” Charlie said, “but Danielle wasn’t making the salads right; I figured I could help her out.”

  “There’ve been too many complaints Charlie.” Georgina wrung her hands together. She didn’t want to hurt her friend. “The health inspector is coming by tomorrow. I know you always work on Thursdays, but you need to stay home.”

  “I can’t go home,” Charlie said. “My apartments been rented out and my landlord said if I come by again, he’ll put me back in the ground and make sure I stay there.”

  “You can’t come in Charlie, they’ll shut us down.”

  ***

  The next day when Georgina came in, she didn’t see Charlie. Breathing a sigh of relief, she finished her morning prep and flipped the sign in the door to open.

  “Georgina Mathews,” a man asked, stepping into the restaurant.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m the health inspector.”

  Behind her, Georgina heard the sound of dishes being washed.

  Afterlife

  “How did you expect him to react?”

  “I’d hoped he’d handle it a little better than he did. He’s my husband for Pete’s sake.”

  “Was your husband,” Kelly said, reaching out and touching my hand, before pulling back and shuddering.

  “He’s still my husband. Nothing’s changed.”

  Kelly snorted, stubbing out her cigarette and giving me the stink eye. It was the same look Nana Ewa gave people when she was about to tell them something they didn’t want to hear.

  “You’re dead Katie.”

  I returned the stare. Wysock women did not back down. “If I were dead, would I be sitting here?”

  “Katie, stop it. I was at your funeral. I know how devastated Randy was about the accident. We all were, but Nana had no right to bring you back.”

  “I’m not dead,” I repeated, my stubborn streak kicking in. Kelly stared at me. “Ok, maybe I died… a little, but Randy didn’t have to lock me out of the house.”

  “You scared the crap out of him. Good grief Katie, take a look in the mirror. You were in the ground for three months before Nana managed to come up with all the ingredients to bring you back. She should have left it alone. Beyond a few days the body is too far gone, even for magic. She’s getting senile in her old age.”

  “Do you know I caught him in bed with another woman?”

  “He could be in bed with multiple women and it wouldn’t matter.”

  “It matters to me.”

  Again, she touched my hand, this time not pulling away. “Katie, you have to go back.”

  “Go back? INTO THE GROUND? Th
ere are worms there and… other things. I won’t do it.”

  I started to cry then, except nothing came out. My tear ducts were clogged by maggot goo and other crusty stuff I didn’t want to think about. It was also then that my bottom lip, which had begun to quiver, fell off, landing on Kelly’s hand. My sister jumped, nearly falling out of her chair. Wiping the back of her hand on her pants, she looked around. We were sitting in a dark corner of the bar, which was a good thing, since people were now staring. One guy in jeans and a muscle shirt was heading our way. I pulled the hood up on my coat and looked down.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, fine,” I said, avoiding his gaze.

  “Umm…Katie…” My sister’s voice was shaking.

  “I know someone who can help you with this.”

  I looked to see what he was talking about. He was holding my lip out, waiting for me to take it. Slowly I looked up into his eyes. His glazed over, dead eyes.

  “Decomposition is a bitch,” he said.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Care to join me?” He nodded towards a table on the far end of the room. Kelly reached out to stop me as I stood to follow him.

  “What about Randy?”

  “Who?” I asked, winking at Kelly as I walked away.

  The Real Ghostbusters of Hollywood

  “Have you ever had the feeling someone was watching you? Have you ever felt a chill run down your spine and knew you had been touched by the evil hand of something you couldn’t explain? Zombies, serial murderers, clowns, villains of all kinds, have often been portrayed on stage and screen in an attempt to thrill those attracted to the dark side. Rarely has anything more disturbing been recreated, than what we are about to attempt today. Hi, I am Russ Collichio and this is The Real Ghost Busters of Hollywood.”

  “Is this going to take long?”

  “CUT! Lady, Ethel is it? What are you doing? You’re killing me here.”

  “I didn’t realize this was going to take this long. I have a meeting with my book club. Maybe we should reschedule.”

  “This isn’t something we can reschedule. You contacted us. You told us your house was haunted. You asked us to come out and remove the ghost.”

  “But my book club…”

  “We’ll try to get you out of here on time, but you need to let us do our job. No more interruptions. Please.”

  Ethel nodded her agreement, as Peter gently moved the elderly woman back towards the couch, to sit next to her husband.

  Bob Steman shook his head at the director. “She’ll drive you crazy. Old Biddy can’t mind her own business. Not like me. I’m surprised she hasn’t chased this ghost out of the house, with her craziness.”

  “You old coot,” Ethel said, jabbing her husband in the side. “You brought this evil thing into the house with your perverted desires. See those binoculars?” Ethel pointed at the window next to an old recliner. “He watches the neighbor girl with those. She knows it too. Puts a show on for him every night, the trollup.”

  “I do not spy on her! I use those glasses for bird watching.”

  “Bird watching my ass.”

  “If your ass wasn’t sagging to the ground…”

  Peter cut the man off before he could finish the sentence. “Please, we have a schedule to keep. We’re already behind and we have to be in Atlanta tomorrow. There’s a restaurant there with an employee who refuses to leave.”

  “What does that have to do with ghost hunting,” Ethel asked.

  “He’s dead. Hit and run on his way home one night, but that hasn’t stopped Dead Charlie from showing up to work every day.”

  “You hear him,” Ethel said, jabbing her husband in the side again. “A man with work ethic. I can’t even get you to fix the squeaky door in the kitchen and you’re alive.”

  “Please, can we visit this later? Okay? Great! Let’s pick up with, this is the real ghost busters of Hollywood.”

  “Are we gonna get through it this time?” Russ looked at his watch. He was supposed to have dinner with one of the actresses from The Real Housewives of Dracula.

  “Let’s hope,” Peter said. “Okay, ready, set…ACTION!”

  “Fifty years ago, madness hit this small town of Youngstown, Ohio. A series of murders descended on this close knit community, sending them into a nightmare of blood, lust and fear.”

  Russ had been walking through the house, as the camera man followed him from room to room. He stopped in the kitchen, where the special effects guy had rigged the back door to open. On cue, it swung in, squeaking loudly, thanks to the effects team.

  “Then one night a young man by the name of Murdock Jones entered through the back door of this home. With him, he carried a butcher knife, the weapon he intended to mutilate the family living here. Murdock came from a troubled home. His father had murdered his mother in front of him, when he was only ten years old. After that he lived with an Aunt who had, according to rumor, done things to him. When he was thirteen, he killed her, by putting rat poison in her tea. Then he buried her in the cellar. It would be months before social workers would discover he was living on his own.”

  Murdock listened to the actor’s monologue, reveling in the delicious memory of what he had done to his aunt. All these years later, he remembered how it had felt in the dark cellar, shoveling dirt on the bitch, but not before pissing on her. She wasn’t dead either, like had been reported. Somehow he hadn’t given her enough poison. It didn’t matter, she couldn’t fight back and he buried her alive. Then he jerked off on her grave. A few weeks later he did the neighbor girl, only instead of poison, he used a paring knife, putting little cuts all along her breasts, before cutting her open. They never did find her body. It would be a few years before they realized there was a killer in their town.

  “Murdock had made a mistake; his victims weren’t as docile as he had anticipated. They fought back and won.”

  “Fought back? There was no fighting, only screaming and dying.”

  Unaware of the ghost next to him, Russ continued, “One of the residents was a Navy Seal, home for a few days leave.”

  “Navy Seal my ass. Are they still passing around that story?”

  “He slit Murdock’s throat with his own knife.”

  “The hell he did. He used his teeth. His very sharp, canine teeth. I knew I was in trouble when I saw him coming at me, all hairy and wolfie.”

  “Really, are you almost done?”

  “CUT!”

  “Ethel, you old biddy, you’re ruining their scene again. Hey, do you think you could interview me next? I bet the little cutie next door would get a kick, seeing me on TV.”

  “Bob, you old perv, sit back down!”

  The least he could have done was left me alive,” Murdock snorted. “I think I would have liked being a wolf better than I do being a ghost. At least then I could eat those two monsters I’m stuck haunting.”

  No Zombies Allowed

  by Lisa McCourt Hollar

 

  They stood in a row; Moon, Walker and the un-named grave. In the light of day it was a curiosity. Tonight would be another matter. Any living visitor remaining after dusk would see the three, not quite dead occupants of the graves rising from their place of rest.

 

  Hecate, the goddess of witchcraft stood within the shadows as the last straggler left. “It is time,” she called, stepping like mist into the waning light.

  There was a slight rumbling and a hand thrust up from beneath the first grave and then another from the second. Clearing her throat, Hecate pointed a finger at the third, unmoving tomb, her voice warning that this would be the last call. “It is time.”

 

  The earth shifted and the occupant of the grave lifted his head. “I’m not feeling well. I think I will stay in.”

 

  “I can keep you there permanently if you wish.” The threat understood, the un-dead servant pushed his way out of the dirt and joined the others.

 
r />   “We have much work to do this Hallows Eve. Hades grows impatient. This world has forgotten the gods and he wishes to remind them of our presence.”

 

  “Sheesh, she’s cranky,” Tobin mumbled, falling in line behind Walker and Moon.

  “Quiet, or she’ll hear you.” Moon stopped to pick up his arm, which had fallen off, grinning sheepishly at Walker. Remember Stone? He called her a wart nosed old hag. I thought she was going to explode.”

  “Haven’t thought of him in a long time,” Walker said. “I wonder how he likes being a toad?”

  “Last I heard, he found a princess to kiss him and now he’s living in a palace.”

  “Huh, some zombies get all the luck.”

  “Enough talking back there,” Hecate called out. “Here’s the plan, we need to wreak havoc.”

  “Wreaking havoc is what we do,” Tobin said, winking at the other two ghouls.

  “We also reek,” Moon said, lifting his arms and sniffing his armpits.

  “You’re such a freak…”

  “Enough!” Hecate glared at the three, cutting Walker off before the servant could finish his sentence. Moon and Tobin snorted, earning an angry glare from the goddess. “That will be quite enough. One more outburst from either of you…”

  “You’ll send us up the creak…” said Moon.

  “I think I’d much prefer a jeep…” said Walker.

  “Oh, lookie here, I’ve found some creeps.

  The three zombie’s stopped, slack jawed, staring at the figure who had stepped into their path. Dressed in a black robe with a hood that covered his head and holding a scythe in one hand and a skull in the other, the creature was the very image of death.

  Hecate sighed, “What are you doing here, Grim.”

  “My job. Those three there, they have to go back.”

  “Up down, up down… I wish they gods would make up their minds,” Tobin moaned, turning and heading back to his grave.

  “Stop,” Hecate hissed. Pointing a finger at the ground, thick weeds came up out of the earth, wrapping tightly around the zombie’s legs.

  “Careful,” Tobin said, “not too tight… oh great, you’ve done it now.”

  Walker winced in sympathy as his friends ankle crumbled, while Moon, chuckled. Hecate pointed her finger again, mending the ankle and reattaching it where it belonged.

  “A little crooked, but not bad,” Tobin said, testing it out.