9. Zombies

On my way to the kitchen (and I did need a bathroom break), I ran into John, carrying Caroline over his shoulder.

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"Oh!" I said. "I didn't know you were here!"

 

"Yeah," he said. "I've been hanging around. The ladies told me to hold you up for a little bit. They're not quite ready."

 

"OK," I said. Then, after a pause while I watched Caroline hang limply, "So, how've you been?"

 

"Look, kid, while I've got you here," he said, shifting his weight (and Caroline swayed with him), "I guess I should tell you to keep your eyes open."

 

"Of course," I said.

 

"No," he said, "I mean, well, I caught some guy peeping in through the parlor window a few minutes ago. He ran off before I could say anything, but ... Just keep your eyes open."

 

"Should we call off the Game?" I asked. "I wouldn't want anyone to get in trouble or anything."

 

"No," he said. "Not yet anyway. I told the women what I saw. They said we should go ahead for now. I pinned the drapes closed in the parlor and the great room, just in case."

 

"OK, I guess," I said.

 

"Caroline also said you'd probably offer to scratch the Game," he continued, "and that when you did, I should thank you for offering. Sit down, son."

 

There was an armchair behind me. I sat in it.

 

Caroline's husband bent down, lowering Caroline so that her feet touched the floor. He shifted forward and she fell off his shoulder into my lap. He lifted her back and threw her arm over my shoulder, twisting her so that her cheek was against mine. He turned her head so that her lips languidly brushed my cheek.

 

"Caroline wanted to give you a little thank-you kiss," John said, "only she's dead now, of course."

 

He lifted her back onto his shoulder and walked back toward the kitchen.

 

"They ought to be ready for you now," he said over his shoulder.

 

In a moment, I got up and followed his footsteps to the kitchen.

 

When I got there, I saw a little gift box on the table, about six inches cubed, wrapped with a bow. An over-sized tag read, "Tommy, Do Not Open Until Christmas."

 

OK.

 

After a minute, Stephanie ran in from the hallway, carrying three high-capacity water guns, one in each hand and one under her arm. She set two of them down on the counter, pumped the other one, and swung it around, left, right, left. She looked scared.

 

She was dressed the same as the last time I saw her a few minutes ago: sheer, lacy baby-doll pajama tops, frilly white panties, and (under the top) a lacy bra. She'd dried herself off in the meantime, however, and her hair was back to its curly red self.

 

In a moment, I saw what Stephanie was supposed to be frightened of. Through the back door burst Lisa and Lacey, shambling in, moaning. Zombies!

 

They didn't look much like zombies, except for the shambling and moaning. They looked like two beautiful women: blonde Lacey in her light blue tank top and short skirt, tall Lisa in her black silk nightgown and fuzzy white slippers.

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Still, zombies are clearly what they were supposed to be. When Stephanie shot them in the shoulder with her water gun, they twisted from the "impact," but kept right on walking, or rather stumbling.

 

"Brains!" they moaned.

 

Of course, everyone knows how to kill zombies. It's one of those incredibly useful bits of knowledge you gain by watching horror movies. You can incinerate them, or crush them to a pulpy mess, or...

 

Stephanie fired again and hit Lisa squarely in the face. She flew back, landing on her back with arms and legs out. She started to rise, but then fell back again.

 

The next shot from Stephanie hit Lacey in the face. She fell to her knees, then dropped face down on the floor, convulsing. Lacey's skirt was so short, I could see a good bit of her light blue panties. They matched her top.

 

Stephanie barely got a break. That's the thing about zombies: they keep coming. In a moment, Melanie was shuffling in from the hallway, behind Stephanie. Melanie was wearing her T-shirt, thong and socks.

 

Stephanie fired and missed. The gun in her hand was out of water. She tried pumping, but all that came out when she fired again was a little "psst" of misty air. She threw the empty gun at Melanie, who ignored it when it hit her, and grabbed the second gun off the counter, pumping it up.

 

But now, Zombie Kim was making her way in the back door, past the bodies of Lisa and the now only gently twitching body of Lacey. Kim was dressed in Daisy Dukes and a white polo shirt, barefoot. The outfit wonderfully set off her lovely legs, nice tan, and short black hair.

 

Kim stupidly kicked her way past Lisa and Lacey's limp forms. "Brains! Brains! Braaaaaaaiiiins!" she moaned.

Stephanie fired again on Melanie. She hit one shoulder. Melanie twisted and then walked on. Stephanie fired again, hitting the other shoulder. Melanie twisted again, and still trudged on. (Her shirt was getting quite wet.) Finally, Stephanie's shot hit Melanie in the ear. Melanie fell down to her knees, then toppled over onto her side.

 

By now, Kim had almost reached Stephanie. Kim's arms were stretched forward. "Brains!" she cried, "Fresh brains!"

 

Stephanie turned, panic in her eyes. She fired, but didn't raise the gun up, so the water stream hit Kim in the leg. Kim continued to advance, dragging the damp leg. Stephanie tried to pump the gun again. Her hands just wouldn't work.

 

"Braaaaiiins!" Kim cried as she reached Stephanie, grabbing her shoulders and pulling Stephanie's head toward her open mouth.

 

Stephanie pushed, and Kim stumbled backward, then started to advance again, closing the step or two between them.

 

This time, Stephanie managed to get her thoughts together, grab the third gun, and fire, directly into Kim's forehead.

 

Kim spun around, stumbled a few steps back toward the back door, and then fell forward onto the floor, coming to rest with her face on Lacey's rear. She lay still.

 

Stephanie, horror on her face, backed across the room, the gun held in both hands at chest level. She got to the door to the great room, which was slightly ajar.

 

She paused there a moment, breathing deeply, when Caroline suddenly reached through the gap in the doorway, grabbed Stephanie's gun, and forced it sideways against her throat.

 

"Brains," moaned Caroline.

 

Stephanie kicked and struggled and gagged and coughed in the kitchen while Zombie Caroline strangled her from the great room. Stephanie fought for a very long time, but it was all in vain. Stephanie began to struggle more weakly. Soon, her hands fell from the weapon at her throat, she let out a gurgle, her head fell forward, and she slid down the edge of the door.

 

Zombie Caroline let go of the gun, which fell into the now-sitting Stephanie's lap. Stephanie's dead weight closed the door on Caroline's arms. Caroline moaned and pulled her arms out, and Stephanie's dead weight closed the door all the way. She slid down so that only her head leaned against the door. Zombie Caroline tried pushing the door a few, futile times, nudging Stephanie and inch or two. Then, she stopped, presumably shambling off.

 

Kim, Lacey, Lisa, Melanie and Stephanie all lay very still. Now what?

 

I heard a cell phone ring. The ring tone was Jonathan Coulton's "Re: Your Brains." Must be for me.

 

I traced the sound to the back pocket of Kim's Daisy Dukes. I pulled the phone out. There was a text message: "Merry Christmas, Tommy." Must be time to open my present.

 

Inside the gift box on the kitchen table was a lot of tissue paper, the little perfume sprayer I knew held Sleep Spray, and five index cards:

 

Lacey (skirt) in kitchen

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Lisa (slippers) in kitchen

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Kim (shirt) in kitchen

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Melanie (socks) in kitchen

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Stephanie (pajama top) in kitchen

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I was a little closer to Melanie, so I figured I'd start with her. Her socks came off easily in my hands, her legs limp. I dropped her feet as I finished each and the each fell with a little thud. I rolled her onto her back, folded her arms over her ample chest, brushed the hair from her ponytail out of her soft ace. She looked, well, peaceful.

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Kim was next. I grabbed her legs and pulled her off Lacey's rear, her polo shirt riding up a bit to show some of her lovely tan lower back. I slid the shirt up over her chest, revealing the bright red bikini top she wore underneath. I pulled the shirt out over her arms and head, turning the shirt inside out. As her arms came free, her right limply fell back against Lacey's rear. I posed her as I had Melanie, arms crossed on her chest, legs together. Kim's hair is so short I didn't need to clear it out of her face.

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I could see a button on the side of Lacey's skirt. Undoing it made it easier to pull it off her flaccid face-down form. Blue tank top, blue panties, blonde hair spilling over red lips and pink face, lightly tanned arms bent at odd angles left and right, legs straight and together where I laid them after removing the skirt. I placed her left arm at her side, palm down.

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I very, very slowly rolled her over. She was as limp as laundry. I saw that her panties had a little Superman/Supergirl logo on the front. I pushed the tank up so that I could see a bit of her stomach. Lacey has a cute little "innie" belly button. I posed her as the others. Lacey's long, soft, blonde curls radiated out from her peaceful face.

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That left Stephanie, who would soon feel the Sleep Spray on her face. When I turned to her, her head propped up against the door, her arms and legs forming little arrows out, I saw her eyelashes flutter. She'd been peeking. That would cost her points.

 

I pushed Stephanie's legs together, lifted her into my arms, and set her on the kitchen chair. She sat there, head tilted back showing her arched neck, one arm on her lap, the other dangling down. I grabbed the baby-doll top at the hem and pulled it quickly over her head, causing her arms to dance and her head to bob forward. She toppled onto the floor, the chair clattering beneath her. The other women flinched (just a bit) at the sound. That would cost them points as well.

 

I set the chair back up, rolled Stephanie onto her back from the side on which she landed, and posed her as well. What the hell.

 

I retrieved the Sleep Spray and dampened her face with the mist. Her head fell to one side after a moment, and her mouth fell slightly open. She was out cold.

 

She was more difficult to lift now. Stephanie is not at all heavy, but she rolled under my touch like a big water balloon. Eventually, I decided to work in stages, lifting and dragging her into a sitting position against the door, then raising her under the armpits, keeping my weight against her to hold her to the wall, until she was more or less standing, and then letting her fall across my shoulder. I wanted to cradle-carry her, though, so I laid her down on the kitchen counter, careful that she did not hit her head too hard, and then lifted her in my arms from there, which proved to be much easier than trying to lift her from the floor. Before lifting her, though, I took a moment to admire her, clad only in her underwear, lying on the counter, her head tilted back into the sink, her moth agape.

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She bent back in my arms, arcing from toe to hair. She swayed and flexed with every step back to the morgue/parlor.

 

I set her on the floor next to Tammy, who lay just as I left her, on her back with her arms stretched out left and right, her feet together. I turned Stephanie onto her stomach, and posed her so that Tammy's right arm crossed under Stephanie's neck, and Stephanie's arm crossed over Tammy's. Stephanie's left arm extended out, a mirror of Tammy's right. I put her legs together, and moved her so that her hip touched Tammy's.

 

After a moment admiring my handiwork, I stepped back out into the hallway, expecting to make my way back to the kitchen to record the scores.

 

I didn't take two steps before I heard Melanie scream. She darted out of the kitchen, in her black thong and white T, then pulled up short a step away from me.

 

"Tommy!" she shouted. "Oh, my God! You've got to help me! You've got to..."

 

 There was a hollow thunk before she could finish her sentence. Her eyes rolled up in her head, she swayed a minute, and then fell face-down at my feet.

 

Behind her stood Caroline, with one of those plastic toy baseball bats. (This one was bright red.)

 

"Brains!" she said, dropped the bat, and scrambled to her knees by Melanie's head. She put her face to the back of Melanie's head and pretended to loudly eat. Melanie twitched with each bite, her ample rear jiggling seductively in the thong.

 

After a few moments of this, Caroline lifted her head and looked at me. Melanie lay still on the floor.

 

"You know, Tommy," Caroline said matter-of-factly, "you can kill me because: one, I'm not officially playing in The Game; and, two, I'm already dead."

 

She then went back to pretending to munch on Melanie's gray matter as Melanie convulsed beneath her.

 

I got the big red plastic baseball bat and swung it like a golf club against the side of Caroline's head, a bit harder than I intended too, from the sound of the "thunk" I made. Caroline fell in a heap onto her side, wrapped around Melanie's head.

 

I was at something of a loss as to what to do next, since I didn't have a card for Melanie, and while I had plenty of ideas, I wanted to play by the rules. It was then I noticed that the big red bat had black writing on it:

 

"The card's under my T-shirt."

 

That must be Melanie's T, since Caroline lay in her black bikini.

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I scooted Caroline's limp form out of the way and turned Melanie over so that I could work the shirt over her large breasts. She wore a very revealing bra underneath. I worked the neck of the shirt over her head, and I guess I accidentally caught her ponytail because she made a little "mmm" sound.

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I set her head carefully back down onto the hard floor, and then pulled the shirt off one arm, and then the other. I let her arms fall as I finished with them, one across her stomach, the other palm up onto the floor. Her mouth was gently open.

 

This was Melanie's last, so I went back into the kitchen to get the Sleep Spray. I was surprised to find Lacey and Kim still exactly as I'd left them. I was impressed.

 

I got the Sleep Spray off the kitchen table where I'd left it, and returned to Melanie, who, of course, hadn't moved. The spray wet her face, but she did not react at all. Still, it was pretty clear that she was out cold. I raised her eyelids to make sure, and indeed, her eyes were rolled back, showing mostly white.

 

From my difficulties with the much lighter Stephanie, I was pretty sure that I wouldn't be able to lift the lovely Melanie off the floor. However, since we were right next to the morgue, it was pretty easy to just grab her feet and drag her in.

 

Her ponytail and her free arm flowed out behind her as I pulled. I posed her face down in a way identical to how I posed Stephanie, except on Tammy's left side.

 

Another moment, and back I went to the kitchen to mark the scores. This time, Lacey and Kim were gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Tammy was still in the lead.

 

As soon as I finished writing, Sarah and Jessica walked in from the pool area, carrying Lacey between them.

 

Lacey was bound head and foot with green cord, suspended from a thick pole, shouldered by Sarah at the head and Lacey at the foot. Lacey's head fell back, her long blonde curls dusting the floor, her eyes closed, her mouth open, dressed in her light blue tank and panties, the "super" logo in front. The trio continued past me, Sarah and Jessica giggling maniacally, through the kitchen and into the great room. Needless to say, I followed them.

Continue The Game (10. Protecting the Innocent)

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