Zombie Tales: Primrose Court Apt. 205 (6 page)

BOOK: Zombie Tales: Primrose Court Apt. 205
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I peeked over, and then snatched my head back
quickly, nearly slipping off my precarious perch. Colby was
reaching up at me again, his outstretched fingers just inches from
my face as he thumped against the wall between us.

I heard his assailant shuffle at the door of
my new stall and thump against it with his face. I could see his DC
shoes under the door again.

“Stop playing around, Colby,” I admonished
him, “If you want me to get help, you'll change your attitude
quick.” I wasn't going to rush out of the restroom and just leave
him with this maniac, but I did deserve a little respect; I mean,
shit, I was crawling over the toilets for this accounts payable
piece of crap and he had the nerve to pull a stunt like he did. I
mean what kind of dumbass bites a man's shoe and thinks it’s
funny?

I stepped up onto the chrome fixture to get a
little more height and peered over to Colby's side again. His
movements were slow and jerky. The wound on his arm had turned
black and was ringed in layers of purple, brown, and yellow
bruising. Colby's eyes were what finally clued me in; they were
glazed like a Krispy Kreme donut, and I don't just mean the white
parts, both of his entire eyes were glazed, iris, pupils,
everything.

I could still see traces of color underneath,
like you can see traces of the yolk through the milky, white
exterior of a poached egg.

I'm not embarrassed to say I cried, not for
Colby. I mean sure, Colby worked in the same office and we got
along alright, but it's not like we were close friends. I didn't
even know his wife's name...wait, was Colby even married? Anyway,
you get my point.

My tears were induced by a veritable tsunami
of emotions. Fear was a driving factor. Revulsion, is that an
emotion? I think now that I was grieving. Sure, I hadn't lost
anybody or anything yet, but as I looked at Colby, I knew... I knew
that because of what had happened to this balding, borderline
obese, accounts payable drone, my world would never be the
same.

I may never get to hold my son, Bobby, again.
I may never get to apologize to my ex-wife for all the things I
didn’t do when our marriage was falling apart. I may not even get
out of this God forsaken men's room alive. Picturing myself dead,
but moving around like Colby and making it out of the men's room
brought on another torrent of tears.

 

 

 

 

About the
Author

I was born in 1974 in
Bremerton, Washington. I moved to Bellingham, Washington at the age
of four and have been here ever since.
I love living in the Pacific
Northwest about two months out of the year. The other ten months it
rains.
Constant rain gives me plenty of time to read and write.
While I'm hooked on writing horror right now, I enjoy many other
genres.
My
favorite author is Robin Hobb, who also lives in the northwest. She
is the award winning Fantasy author of Assassin's Apprentice and
several sequels.
I have one son. I named him Chance. He is currently six going
on fifteen. We are both currently enrolled in school, but I am a
few grades ahead of him.

 

You can find more from this author at his
home page on Smashwords

Robert DeCoteau-Smashwords

You can also friend him on Facebook:

Robert
DeCoteau Facebook

Or at his own web site:

Robert
DeCoteau Author

 

 

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