First Zombie Read online

  First Zombie

  By

  Sean Thomas Fisher

  Copyright © 2019 by Bump in the Night Publishing

  Cover design by The Cover Collection

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or (especially) dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  1

  The Shape

  2

  Stand Your Ground

  3

  Detective Holland

  4

  Point, Shoot, Repeat

  5

  Chad and Carmen

  6

  Zombie Lot Lizard

  7

  I Am Not Negan

  8

  Hot Beef Stew and Cold Beer

  9

  Zombie Slayer

  10

  Cannibals

  11

  Hailstorm

  12

  Trending

  Other Books by Sean Thomas Fisher:

  The Shape

  Finn pulled his necktie off and tried to relax on the back deck, but the neighbor’s dogs were making that difficult. Tossing the tie on the patio table, he leaned back in a padded chair and stretched his arms out, cracking his back and wondering what those little wieners could possibly be barking at for so long. The privacy fence separating their yards blocked his view, so he stared into the trees behind his house instead, waiting for something to come wandering out. Since moving in last year, he’d seen many deer stroll out of the cemetery behind his property, which is why they didn’t fence off the backyard. Most of his neighbors had kids and pets to keep in, but Miranda and Finn hadn’t gotten that far yet and didn’t mind some deer and foxes dropping by to poop on the lawn. They enjoyed it.

  The setting sun peeked over the treetops, winking at him through the rustling leaves. Even the sun was happy for him. Finn unbuttoned his shirt and drew a breath of warm June air deep into his lungs. He’d been looking forward to this moment all week. After finally closing the Tanner house, he was off for the weekend and ready to celebrate with some good food and even better friends. And the closing couldn’t have come at a better time. When he and Miranda bought their home, things were going great but the market can turn on you like a stray dog and they needed this commission. Miranda was already picking up extra shifts at the salon and if he didn’t pull a rabbit out of his hat, and soon, they’d be living off Ramen all summer.

  Pulling a joint from a shirt pocket, he ran it under his nose like a fine cigar and breathed it in. He sighed his satisfaction and lit up, sucking in a deep breath and holding it. Cloudy puffs chugged from his nose like a slow rolling locomotive, floating away on the breeze. Tipping the margarita glass black, he took a quick drink before coughing a stream of smoke out over the backyard.

  “What is happening out here?” Miranda asked, sashaying across the deck with a fresh margarita in each hand.

  “I’m okay,” he choked out, hiding the joint in an ashtray.

  Black high heels clicked against the wood planks, robe fluttering about her designer jeans. Pressing her red painted lips together, she set a margarita glass on the patio table and sharpened her gaze into suspicious slits.

  “Gracias, senorita,” he replied, finishing the last of his current drink with a salty chug.

  She tucked a strand of blond hair behind an ear. “Where’d you get that?”

  He followed her gaze to the smoke rising from the ashtray, the two dachshunds snapping and snarling at something he couldn’t see. “That?” He cleared his throat. “That is a gift from Rich for closing on the house today.”

  “Really?”

  “He went to Colorado for a conference last weekend and brought some back in his underwear. It’s called The Ghost of Leroy with the hint of ball sweat.”

  Her face soured in the flickering sunlight. “That’s disgusting.”

  “You want some?”

  “I’ll pass,” she replied, sipping her margarita and staring out over the yard.

  Finn took his sunglasses off and tossed them on the table. “Wow, good thing I’m not driving tonight,” he said, clearing his eyes. “That stuff is lethal.”

  “Well, don’t smoke too much; I don’t want you rambling on about alien abductions all night long again.”

  “Those are really happening!”

  Snorting in amusement, she breathed in the fresh air. “I am so excited to get out of the house tonight! Carmen and I have been texting about Mexican food all day.”

  “No doubt, I’m starving.”

  “Do you want some chips or something?”

  “Naw, I can wait,” he said, tapping the joint out. The truth was, he didn’t have time for lunch today and these margaritas were going straight to his head. He nearly grabbed some Doritos from inside but wanted to save room. El Rodeo’s enchiladas were too good to waste precious stomach space on bagged chips.

  Sipping her drink, Miranda creased her brow. “What is with all the barking?”

  Finn followed her gaze to Tom’s yard, where both dogs attacked the rear fence like something was out to get them. Swallowing thickly, his bloodshot eyes drifted into the trees bordering their property, getting lost in the shadows swirling about inside. “There’s something back there.”

  Despite the heat, Miranda pulled her robe tighter around her, studying the trees hiding the crooked tombstones and moss-covered crypts resting just a few yards beyond. “Something like what?”

  He sat up straighter in the chair, gray slacks squeaking against the red cushion. “Did you see that?” he whispered.

  She squinted into the sunlit trees, the breeze toying with her long hair. “See what?”

  He thrust a finger out. “There!”

  Using a hand as a visor, Miranda shook her head. “I don’t…”

  “Look out,” he yelled, grabbing her ass and making her spill some of her drink.

  “Finley Bryson,” she gasped, smacking his shoulder. “You are such a jerk!”

  Tequila fueled laughter shot past his lips and the dogs finally took a much-needed break from their incessant yapping. He leaned back and sighed. Sunshine flickered across his face, the sudden quiet music to his ears.

  “This is exactly why I didn’t want to move next to a cemetery. I knew you’d be trying to scare me all the time.”

  “Yeah, but you liked the part about saving fifteen grand, didn’t ya?”

  She squished her lips into the side of her pretty face. “This is true.”

  “Plus, who cares? It’s like living next to a park.”

  “Yeah, with dead bodies buried all over the place.”

  He tipped his head back and laughed, the joint lifting his spirits even higher.

  Bending to meet his eyes, she flashed him a look down her robe. “I love this house and I love you,” she admitted, planting a warm kiss on him tasting of lime.

  “I knew it.”

  Her smile brightened her almond-shaped eyes, warming him from the inside out. “I am so happy for you,” she whispered against his lips.

  “I’m happy for us.”

  Straightening up, she raised her brow. “So, is it okay if I get those shoes I’ve been stalking online?”

  His gaze jerked back to the trees and tightened. “Did you see that?”

  “You’re not funny.”

  He grinned, insides lifting like helium was coursing through his veins. He was on top of the world and nothing could stop him now. “You go ahead and get those shoes you’ve been st
alking online.”

  Her blue eyes lit up like sapphires sparkling in the sun. “Thank you,” she said, snatching up his empty glass. “They should be here by tomorrow.” His face fell and before he could get a word out, she clicked her high heels across the deck. “Give me five more minutes and then order the Uber.”

  “I’m on it,” he replied, admiring the way her curvy hips shook back and forth as she went. He was the luckiest man in the world. She could have picked a thousand other guys but she chose him and he would give her everything she deserved. That was a silent promise he would take to the grave.

  She stopped and turned at the French doors. “And get changed!” she said, disappearing into the kitchen.

  The ghost of a grin tugged at his lips. He loved how she enjoyed getting ready for something almost as much as the something itself. She deserved this and he couldn’t wait to surprise her with a shopping spree at the mall tomorrow. She was going to lose it.

  Squeezing the lime wedge into the margarita, he dropped it inside and took a long drink. Cold condensation ran down his hand, dripping onto his slacks. For him, getting ready was the worst part of the night, one he typically put off until the last possible minute. His phone beeped and vibrated against the table with a new message from Chad, Carmen’s husband: Where r u guys? We got the last patio table!

  Finn’s thumbs attacked the screen: Nice! On r way!

  Sighing, he took another drink, stopping an ice cube from slipping down his throat. His phone beeped at him again – probably Chad texting to let him know they also got the last basket of tortilla chips. Finn set the glass down and picked up the phone. Turning it sideways, he studied the live image on the screen, wiping his hand on his slacks. “Can I help you?” he asked, sucking on an ice cube.

  The lady startled on his front porch, brown hair curling out from a sweat stained ballcap. Peering over the top of her sunglasses, her eyes locked in on the Ring Doorbell attached outside the front door. “Oh, yes, hello, sir. Sorry to bug you this evening,” she said, making Finn shake his head because he knew she wasn’t sorry. “I’m with Cole Painting and Decorating and we’re offering a twenty percent discount for the next five days on our full exterior package. Have you thought about painting your home recently?”

  “This house was just painted last year,” he replied into the phone, crunching on the ice.

  Her face fell. “Oh,” she said, stepping back to survey the house.

  “You can’t tell?”

  Gesturing with a handful of fliers, she looked the gray paint with red trim over, tapping a finger against her lips. “Well, if you decide on another color down the road, I left a flier in the door.”

  “Thank you,” he said, watching her give a quick wave and descend the porch steps. “What’s that?”

  She stopped on the pavers and turned back to the door, eyebrows rising over her shades. “I’m sorry?”

  “Did you say something?”

  She shook her head. “I said, I left a flier in your door.”

  “Oh, okay, cool. Have a good day.”

  She waved again and walked off, heading for the sidewalk running out front.

  “Hello?” he said, making her stop and turn around again.

  Using the fliers to shield her eyes from the setting sun, she raised her voice. “Yes?”

  Finn let her squirm for a moment before replying, a grin pulling back into the lines of his mouth. “You wanna come inside for a minute?”

  The woman stared blankly at the house, turning to a statue in the golden light. Dropping her hand, she spun on her heels and walked away.

  “You can take a bath if you want!” he called out, making her walk quicker.

  “Finn,” Miranda laughed from the doorway. “Quit messing with solicitors and get dressed!”

  “I’m not messing with solicitors.”

  She tipped her head down, robe fluttering about her jeans. “I saw the whole thing on my phone,” she said, gesturing with her cellphone.

  He laughed and put his cell to sleep. “I love this fucking doorbell. I am going to sit back here and screw with these douchebags all summer long.”

  “You should start a vlog because some of these videos are pretty funny.”

  “Hey, that’s a great idea,” he replied, ideas coming together in his mind like clockwork. “I can’t wait to catch a package thief red-handed! I’m going to set out some fake ones next week.”

  “Okay, but get ready first. We’re running late!”

  She disappeared into the kitchen and the dogs started barking again, stepping on his nerves. He whistled at the fence, trying to trick them into thinking he was Tom but they didn’t bite. They snarled and snapped instead, a splinter under his nail. Groaning, he ordered the Uber and got up to go inside to change his clothes, knowing the last possible minute was now here and it was time to face the music. He rounded up his drink and a branch broke off in the trees. The dogs jumped and clawed at the fence, a rowdy chorus of yelps and howls that left them hoarse. Slipping his phone in a pocket, Finn scanned the trees and bushes, the high-pitched yips piercing his eardrums like needles. Shaking his head, he turned for the house and another branch broke. This time louder. Closer. Using a hand to block out the flickering light, he stared into the backyard. It had to be Tom. There was a gate in the back of his fence so he and his wife, Linda, could take morbid walks amongst the headstones at night. On cue, a man wearing a suit and tie limped into view, crunching dead leaves and sticks beneath his feet. The silhouette stopped to struggle with a thorny Gooseberry shrub, a jerky shadow amongst the trees.

  Without looking, Finn set his drink on the edge of patio table, finding it odd to see Tom back there in his work clothes. Tom was an investment banker but maybe he was trying to corral a loose dog to stop his from barking. Or maybe he lost something going for a walk the night before. Tearing his slacks on the bush, Tom roughly pushed through the foliage and stumbled out onto Finn’s freshly cut grass. The dogs barked louder and the mood all changed. Finn watched Tom stop and stare down at the ground, a crooked shadow against the light dancing with the leaves.

  “Tom?” Finn said in a weak voice. “You okay?”

  Tom stood there and stared at his dress shoes, swaying in his stance. The dogs clawed at the fence, growling through the cracks. They couldn't see him but they could smell him. Slack jawed, Finn gazed into the other yards around him. As far as he could see, there wasn’t a soul in sight, which was odd for a Friday evening. Usually, everyone was firing up the grills and playing a game of bags with some cold ones by now.

  He turned back around and his heart jumped. Tom was closer to the deck now, staring down at the grass like he lost something. The hair went up on the back of Finn’s neck, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t see the man’s face but, from this distance, he was noticeably taller than Tom. Thinner too. Forcing air into his lungs, Finn used a hand to block out the sunlight. “Hello?”

  The stranger stopped searching the ground and turned to stone. Moving like molasses, he looked up and, despite the humidity, a cold shiver ran down Finn’s spine.

  The man held Finn’s nonplussed stare, sucking the air from the backyard.

  “Are…are you okay, sir?” Finn sputtered, leaning against the railing for support.

  The shape just stood there and swayed with the breeze; face masked in shadows. Then, in an unsettling moment, it began shambling toward the deck. Toward Finn. His eyes snagged on a yellow carnation pinned to the stranger’s lapel and when he emerged from the pooling shadows, Finn’s adrenaline spiked. The elderly man’s thin, white hair was neatly combed back over the age spots dotting his wrinkled skull. An eyeball dangled from a single vein, bouncing against a rosy cheek as the old-timer hobbled closer. A tongue slipped from his mouth and licked at the swinging orb, his good eye locked on Finn. Heart racing, Finn staggered backwards and knocked over a patio chair. The old man raised his long, bony arms and reached for Finn, moaning like he was in terrible agony and
limping ever closer.

  Stand Your Ground

  “Oh my God,” Finn muttered, trying to make his body take him inside and lock the doors. But he couldn’t move. Nothing worked. The horror of it all shut his motor functions down upon eye contact. The man stumbled closer, reaching for Finn like a frightened child wanting its father. Tight, gray skin covered his outstretched fingers. He coughed something dark down a necktie matching the carnation pinned to his suit coat. The moaning grew louder and that’s when it hit Finn like a sledgehammer.

  The man was dead. Finn could tell by the pale skin and lifeless look haunting his only eye. Not to mention the smell. Something brought it back to life in the cemetery and now it was here, in Finn’s backyard, his beautiful wife just a few yards away.

  The dogs howled and jumped against the fence, breaking him from his trance. Spinning on his heels, he bolted inside the house and slammed the French doors shut. He locked them and stared into the empty kitchen, a blue button down rising and falling on his chest. Then he was off and running.

  “Hey, what time did the…”

  Crashing into Miranda, she went flying to the kitchen floor with an oomph bursting from her lips. Her margarita glass shattered against the tiles, spraying her jeans and heels.

  “Call the police!” he yelled, sprinting past her and yanking back the hall closet door. He pulled on the string but the stupid light didn’t come on. “Shit,” he hissed, cursing himself for not changing the bulb last week. He rifled through the closet, tossing coats and tubes of wrapping paper out into the hallway.

  “What the hell, Finn!” Miranda cried out from the kitchen. “That fucking hurt!”

  The vacuum cleaner smashed against the wall, knocking the handle to the floor. Shallow breaths pumped his chest. Sunspots floated in his eyes, fear clawing fast and hard up his spine. His fingertips finally hit cold steel. Setting his jaw, he pulled the twelve-gauge from the back of the closet. “Call the cops! There’s a dead guy in our backyard,” he yelled, grabbing a box of shells from the top shelf and, simultaneously, realizing how crazy that just sounded.