Zombie Sex (Zombie Apocalypse) (2 page)

‘I’m not Angeline!’ I burst out
crying. The hairdryer fell out of my hands onto the floor. As soon as it hit
the floor, making a crack sound, he stopped crying. He cocked his head down, in
a mechanical sway, and stared. Not a single part of his body moved. His gaze
was that of a toddler, trying to understand that strange thump, but it was also
the gaze of something else. And then it occurred to me, it was like a lion
sneaking up to its pray; the gaze precise and honed in. I looked at the blood
dripping from his nose and swallowed. My mouth opened, about to say a few
words, and then closed. A part of my body told me to stay still. I don’t know
understand what was going on. A moment ago we were making love on the bed and
now, and now, I can’t even–

He jumped up on all fours. My
chest squeezed inward. He then started swaying back and forth like some weird
ritual – his eyes didn’t waver from the hairdryer. Each sway left a fresh line
of blood on the floor. But it weren’t the lines of blood that made me want to
faint, it were his eyes. Those steel black things. It wasn’t possible. How
could his body change so rapidly? I’ve never seen anything like it in my entire
life. He stopped swaying. I dug my nails into my skin; think blood was dripping
from it. My heart told me to kick the hairdryer away but I couldn’t. My
imagination showed me a picture of, him jumping on me like a leech with legs. I
kicked the hairdryer.

It went crashing past him
against the wall. He jumped around (gargling out blood) and attacked it. He
hammered it with his jaw –
kla-klah-kla
– trying to get a bite. I looked
at my fingers and saw them waving. Adrenaline – that felt like a slap of
sunrays – washed over me. While he chewed on my hairdryer in a standing fetus
position, facing the wall, I stepped toward the door. Each step closer made me
want to faint. Halfway, I couldn’t even walk. The thought of him gazing at me
like he did at the hairdryer made me feel sick. And then, the chewing stopped.
The
kla-klah-klang,
gone. My body froze. I need to look at him. If I
don’t do it – I can’t. I just can’t do it. Ice-cold electricity shot through my
veins. He was standing behind me. Fingers ran down my neck, hot breath puffed
against my skin, he spoke words I couldn’t understand.

My mouth twitched. I glanced. It
wasn’t James behind me. It was someone else.

‘
Eigh ma hurt my lungs
.’
He ran his nail down my throat, tickling it. ‘
Plea Angelina it hurth
.’

I stumbled backward against the
wall. My hand stretched and felt the exit. ‘James please – please don’t just.’ He
stood still, head cocked, hand reached out as if asking for money. I ran–

Past my bed and almost tripped over
the carpet. I stole a glance and didn’t see him. I shut the door and dashed for
the stairs – that’s when I allowed myself to scream. I could hear the door open
(think it was me crashing down the stairs), he was coming for me, he was going
to jump down, those eyes, those black eyes. I grabbed my mouth so that I could
stop screaming. I ran into the kitchen and smelled the burnt vegetables. With
tears gushing down my face I slammed the switch off – and heard my bedroom door
creak. My heart jumped from my stomach into my throat. I knew it was my door
that’d opened because I heard running down the stairs. My eyes locked onto a
glint. Knives. I ripped one out and heard panting.  

He stood at the door holding
both sides. He wasn’t panting through his mouth; he was panting through his
nose like a buffalo about to charge. His mouth slipped open and showcased a set
of healthy white teeth. Until he plucked one out. He threw the tooth toward me
and chortled. He plucked another – threw it down. Plucked another – threw it
behind. He closed his mouth; it didn’t stop the blood from seeping through his
lips. I think I was going to die of fear. I screamed and pointed the knife.

‘Stay fuck away!’ I waved the
knife. He walked in. He kept nodding at me. I stretched my arm and pointed the
tip. ‘Please God – James stay away.’ He opened his mouth. The red water spilled
out. He ran to the counter. I ran the other way. We were now walking around the
table. Him on one side, I the other. If I can get close enough to the door I
can make a run for it. He was slowly walking around the table, tapping his
nails on the counter, chortling at me. Cold sweat, from my hair, slid down my
neck. This was a nightmare. What else could it be? I swallowed, licked my lips,
and dashed for the door – but stopped. He jumped onto the table and jumped
toward me. Everything around me turned slow motion. His body turned into a
shadow. His chortling sounded like knives carving. I startled from my trance
when hot drops spat on my face. He knocked me onto the floor. My breasts throbbed
– I screamed. That’s all I could do. Scream. He was trying to bite me. He was
trying to fucking bite me. He snapped at my neck and missed. I pushed him away
but he came again. I clenched my hand and realized I didn’t have the knife. He
slobbered his warm liquid onto me and snapped again. I cried and swung my hand
around. When I felt steel I gripped – and screamed (I locked my fingers over
the sharp end of the knife). I lowered my hand and grabbed the base. He bit
something off me. I think a chunk of my skin. It was hard to tell whose blood
it was. He had a piece of my shirt matted on his lips. He was going to strike;
I could see those black marbles roll in their sockets. With all my strength I sliced
the knife through his throat. His screaming sounded like a choir of demonic
voices. It gave me enough time to shove him off. I got up. He grabbed my leg.
He looked at me with a child’s expression, “Please mommy, don’t go,” the
expression said. I scanned the floor for the knife thinking that I had dropped
it. But it was still locked between my fingers.

His facial expression changed
into hell itself.

It knew what I was going to do.

I slammed the knife into his
head.

-2-

I held my eyes with my left
hand and could hear the operator answer in my right. I slid down the wall.

–hello? Please state your
emergency.

A tear seeped through my
fingers. ‘I didn’t mean to…do it.’

Ma’am can you please repeat that?

One by one, tears slid down my
cheeks. I killed James. I killed a person. I killed a person. I tried to
breathe. ‘Please I need help.’

What’s your emergency?

I killed someone. I killed
someone. ‘I, there’s a dead body in my kitchen.’

Are you hurt ma’am?

My bra hung to one side. I
could see my breasts. Warm liquid snaked into the valley. ‘Yes, I can’t.
Breathe. Please send someone.’ I grabbed my eyes again. Can’t bear the sight of
my bloody hand. I’m a murderer. I didn’t mean for things to get out of control.
I just wanted to make him some food and have a quite night in. What happened I
don’t understand what happened?

–is that the correct address?

I shook my head. I need
tissues. ‘Sorry?’

Clover lane 48, is that the
correct–

‘Yes it is.’ I need to get up
from the floor. The operator said something but I switched the cell off. I
threw my phone on the floor and ran to my room – making sure not to look at the
kitchen.

The bed sheets were still
messy. I saw him sitting on the bed with his legs open. Looking at me. Smelling
my breasts. Telling me that I smelled of lavender. I laughed and smelled my
wrist. Apart from smearing blood on my face, I certainly didn’t smell of
lavender. I stumbled into the bathroom and saw my wretched face. The tip of my
nose looked like Bambi’s, just a bit more red. My brown hair had turned into
seaweed: slimy strings of matted blood. I wiped my cheek and printed a bloody
scratch. I began to cry. I reached for the sink and held it for support. While
tears washed away red, I saw my hairdryer in my peripheral. It made my bones
ache. I knelt and picked it up. It was as if a rat had chewed on the plastic
for a whole month. I ran my finger across the jagged area and saw him staring
at me in the mirror. Fear lashed at my throat; crippling my breathing. I
screamed, but the only thing that came out was a whisper of air. The hairdryer
fell. I turned. He was standing at the door with the knife protruding from his
skull. His was unable to speak because of a gash, the width of a slice of
bread, around his neck. He walked in (spitting gargles) and opened his arms
like he wanted a hug. My body convulsed with such a force, that I was unable to
hold the sink.

‘No!’ I shouted. ‘Please leave
me.’ I swiped snot from my nose and thrust my arms behind – trying to find
anything. I felt a toothbrush, soap, a bottle – and nothing. He muttered a word
that I think was
sorry
(sounded like
zhory
).
And then, he
collapsed. His body wiggled for a few seconds and went still. I stood like a mannequin.
I made a promise to myself: I wasn’t going to move until the police came.

-3-

‘So let me get this straight.
You say,’ he lifted his pen, ‘you saw his eyes go black?’

I looked at the steam swirling
from my cup. ‘Yes, that’s correct.’ He nodded and continued writing. The
interrogation room was just like in the movies, sterile and cold. The steel chair
is what annoyed me the most it kept rattling each time I moved. I reached for
the cup.

‘That’s coffee by the way,’ he
said with a smile. I wish it was truth serum then you’ll know that I’m telling
you the truth and not some made-up story. He dotted a few lines hard enough for
me to hear.

‘Miss Velvet Black. Can you
please explain what you mean by his eyes went black?’

The coffee was hot but I still
gulped a mouth full. I wiped my lips. ‘It’s exactly what I mean, his eyes were
black. Solid black.’ Solid black, he must think I’m crazy.

‘Yes you, did say that.’ He
rested both hands on the table. He must work out; his hands are the size of my
head. Black people tend to be large for some reason. ‘You have to see it from
my point of view, you say, he just freaked out and then his eyes went all scary
dark.’

‘That’s what I saw officer. I’m
not lying to you.’

‘Fine.’ He scribbled. And
looked up. ‘How do you know Mr. James Agaer?’ Think this is my queue to take
another sip of the coffee. I slurped.

‘We work together.’ He’s going
to probe me. I don’t like where this is heading.

‘What was he doing at yours?’ I
don’t know how to answer the question. He leaned in. ‘Velvet, we see cases like
this almost every day. I must talk to,’ he looked at the roof, ‘I don’t know,
maybe twenty women a day. So let me make this easy for you and rephrase the
question. Were you and James seeing each other?’

My hands went clammy. My heart
raced. I don’t know if I should tell him the truth. I don’t want to spend the
next four years behind bars. But, they’ll find out eventually won’t they? I
sighed. ‘No officer. He has a newborn child, I’ve met his wife a few times I
won’t do something like that. So to answer your question. No. We didn’t
see
each other. He came to mine for a meeting.’ Keep a straight face Velvet. Look
him in the eye. When he looks away then you can break eye contact.

‘Ok.’ He scribbled. I looked at
the only thing that gave me salvation: my cup. I slurped. Fuck. They are going
to find out. His wife called him when we were about to have sex. They are going
to find out that, that I’m a liar. I’ll go to jail not for four years but
twenty years. This coffee didn’t taste too good.

There was a knock on the door.
A man, who looked like a bloated worm, poked his head in and adjusted his
glasses. ‘Sir his wife just came in.’ Whose wife? Angeline? Don’t tell me it’s
her. And then, I heard something that made me want to jump. A baby’s cry.

‘I’ll be out in minute.’ The
black officer said. He turned to me. ‘How well do you know Angeline?’

‘I’ve met her at a Christmas party,
and,’ I had to think, ‘and when we all went out for drinks.’

His scribbling was starting to
give me a headache. ‘When can I leave officer?’

‘Not anytime soon.’

‘Excuse me?’

He rolled his eyes up. ‘We just
found a man torn into pieces – in the bathroom you were standing in.’ He
continued writing. ‘So it’s going to be a while.’

My vision went dark. I touched
the table. ‘Can I, get some fresh air?’

‘Of course.’ He glanced at the
door. ‘Smith!’

The worm man came in. ‘Sir?’

‘Escort Velvet for fresh air.’
I need an escort? God, are they going to lock me up? Is this the part where I
say I demand a lawyer? I don’t know, the only thing I do know is that I feel
like fainting. I got up.

‘You look a little white.’ Worm
said. ‘You want me to get you some water?’

‘Yes please.’ I walked out and
saw a dozen faces staring at me. No doubt they’ve heard the latest: brutal
murder. But there was one face between them that I didn’t want to see. Make it
two.

‘Velvet!’ She came bobbing over
with her baby. ‘What happened?’

I looked at the baby’s little
feet. The poor thing was going to grow up without a father and it’s my fault. I
swallowed. I mustered enough strength to look her in the eyes. I always thought
she was beautiful; in a tired-overworked-librarian kind of way.  ‘I’m sorry
Angeline.’ She cradled the baby to one side and grabbed my arm.

‘Are you all right?’ Her
question caught me off-guard. I didn’t expect her to be this composed. Did she
know her husband was dead? But then I saw that I was wrong, of course she knew.
Look at her.

‘I…’ I’m sorry. ‘Just need some
fresh air.’ She squeezed my arm.

‘What happened?’

‘I wish I knew.’ I walked away.