Zombie Ever After (31 page)

“I found champagne,” Cathren called from another part of the huge kitchen. “Dom Perignon!”

“Perfect,” Donovan said. “Bring as many bottles as you can carry. I’m working on a second platter of food.”

They rode the elevator up to the top of the hotel, where it stopped but did not open. After a second or two, a light bulb went off in Cathren’s head. She realized why the doors were still shut. She swiped the keycard in the slot inside the elevator.
 

The doors slid wide to reveal a marble and gold entranceway into the suite. As they walked into the room, they soon realized it filled the entire top floor. Windows were everywhere, so they found themselves gazing at the city in flames across the bay.

Turning away from the heartrending sight, Donovan popped open the champagne.

“Cheers,” he said, mustering a smile.
 

He poured two servings, and Donovan and Cathren clinked glasses and sipped the bubbly. They had another glass, and another, and soon forgot all their troubles. Cathren even ate a couple of the strawberries while they drank, and Donovan enjoyed a bite of cheese.
 

Then, without a word, they flung themselves onto the enormous, round, silk-covered bed.

Donovan took Cathren’s blouse off; she pulled his pants down. He tore her shorts and panties away, she yanked his boxers off. Naked, they kissed and caressed each other as if they were the last two human beings on earth, which one day might very well be true.

As they made love in the penthouse suite on the Ayala Grand Hotel on Angel Island, Donovan thought it might come down to the two of them to maintain the entire human race. He chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Cathren whispered.

“Nothing,” he said, kissing her neck and her shoulder.
 

He kissed her deeply on the mouth, gently caressing her tongue with his. Then, without further hesitation, he got on top of her, as if he’d not had sex for years. They rocked against each other as she clawed his back, like she was trying to open the best birthday present ever.

She moaned, pressing her head into the pillow, her face awash with pleasure. Then she started to change. Her skin began to rot, decay, putrefy. Donovan caught the smell of death, and wrinkled his nose in defense. He opened his eyes, and saw that half her facial skin had rotted away. The rest was decomposing before his eyes, like a fast-forward film of a cadaver rotting into the ground.

Her hair fell out onto the pillow. Her skin peeled and cracked all over her body, exposing sections of ligament, muscle, and bone.

Donovan froze above Cathren like a snapshot. He slowly pulled his hand from where it had been entwined in her hair. A large thatch of it, no longer attached to her head, remained between his fingers.

As he watched, helpless, her left eye lolled out of its socket, exposing connective tissue, arteries, and veins. Her nose bled, then coagulated, then fell off. Donovan could see her teeth through the side of her face. He could see her skull through the skin splitting apart on her forehead.

She screamed then, a deathly scream. As she arched her back and shuddered, one of her breasts disconnected. It tumbled onto the quilt at her side. Her other breast lost one chunk of skin, then another. He could see the muscle and fat underneath.
 

She pulled him tight, breathing heavy. Feature by feature, her face restored itself to normal. The beautiful vision Donovan loved so much returned. Her breasts regenerated, her hair grew back. As fast as it had decayed, her body returned to its normal, pre-aroused, non-zombie state. She relaxed, smiled up at him, and swiped a few loose (but still attached) strands of hair away from her eyes.

“Wow,” Cathren breathed, sweat beading on her upper lip. She exhaled, puffing out her now smooth cheeks.

“Yeah, wow,” Donovan said, rolling over on his back.
 

Cathren said with a sweet smile on her lips, “Donovan Coddell, I am mad about you.”

They held each other in silence on the huge bed, Donovan and his little half-zombie. She started to drift off to asleep, her eyes fluttering. But before she did so, he whispered in her ear, “Cathren Whitney, I’m mad about you, too.”
 

She smiled and closed her eyes all the way, as a tiny bit of her face broke off and bounced onto the pillow like an exclamation point.

While San Francisco burned, sending dark plumes of smoke into an already blackened sky, the moon and the stars made a vain attempt to shine through the murky haze.
 

A small, greasy sliver of moonlight reflected on a slippery boat landing near Fisherman’s Wharf. The black waves crashed rhythmically in and out in their moon dance.
 

Then something appeared on the landing, crawling up from the depths of the bay.

Not a crab. Not a jellyfish. Not a lobster.

A human head.

Moving on its own, crawling up the incline like a slug, using its short length of vertebrae like a snail’s slimy foot. It was followed by another living human head, growling and spitting seawater.

Then another appeared from out of the black bay.

And another.

And still another.

A small army of bitter, depraved, insane human heads.

And then they were gone. Disappearing at once into the oil-black San Francisco night.

About the Author

CARL S. PLUMER was born in New York City, holds advanced degrees in writing, and has spent his life surrounded by words. He’s delivered newspapers, worked at a printing press, managed a bookstore, taught writing, wrote for literary magazines, and published technical books. His first novel,
Zombie Ever After
, (which you just read) was an Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Quarterfinalist and a National Indie Excellence Award Finalist. Carl lives with his wife Kristen and their two black cats, Mr. Pixie and Miss Dixie. Their children—Hannah, Joseph, Kira, and Lee—live around the globe pursuing their dreams.

Sign up for Carl’s newsletter

http://www.carlplumer.com/signupnow/

Connect with Carl

Help an Author Out

If you liked this story, why not let others know? Tell your friends. Chat about this novel on Facebook. Mention the stories on Twitter. Perhaps even leave a brief review where you bought the book online.
 

Word-of-mouth is crucial for any author to succeed.
Thank you for your support!

Acknowledgments

Let’s see how many times I can use the word “thanks” in a single paragraph. I have many people to thank, without whom this book would barely exist—and wouldn’t be worth your time to read. First, a big thanks to Chris Baty and the gang at NaNoWriMo for the inspirational kick in the arse; they got me to ditch all my usual excuses for not writing. A special thanks to Holly Lisle, for teaching me the art of the rewrite. Holly, you are a magician!
 

Thanks to Rebecca Hamilton, for her amazing editing that turned this book from “almost” to “done”! Thanks, as well, to Judi Fennell, for her remarkable proofreading and additional editing, and to Beth Lynne, my beta reader, for catching those last little (and important) things. Rebecca, Judi, and Beth: this book would be an embarrassment of typos and half-formed thoughts without you.
 

Thanks, especially, to Neal Cash and Scott Hall, for giving me the encouragement to press forward when they had not seen a single sample of my writing. Finally, thanks to Kristen, my first, best, and favorite reader. And last, but not least, a shout-out to my greatest achievements: Hannah, Lee, Kira, and Joseph—may you all reach for the stars and realize your dreams.