Read Online This Plague of Days Season One (The Zombie Apocalypse Serial) by Robert Chazz Chute - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Robert Chazz Chute
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“Oh, that’s a nasty cut, you have there.” He looked at her hand and grimaced. “It’s not your day at all, is it?”
“A pet bit me. It’s fine. Do you have a big family, Pete?”
“Yes, I do, as a matter of fact. Since the plague, what with the economy, I lost my job. We’re all packed in tight in one house. Had to get away to preserve my sanity.” The man glanced at her swollen belly again and squirmed in his seat. “S’cuse me. It’s bad form to be complaining to you about family right now, isn’t it?”
She patted his hand. “No worries. None at all anymore.”
He withdrew his hand discreetly and raised it to get the bartender’s attention. “Have a cold Fosters ready for the lady, Kenny!” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, most of us lost our jobs. I got a couple of brothers — Leland and Vannever — in the police. They support the rest. If not for them, things would be dire.”
“I see.”
“In times like these, well…any chance you going back to your man?”
“None.”
“What will you do?”
“I don’t have to do anything anymore. I’ll do as I please.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I’ve been doing research for years. I’m going into education next.”
“Teaching, you mean? What will you teach?”
She smiled. “I’ll show you.” She pointed to her throat. “Kiss me gently, here.”
Pete straightened in his chair. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Darlin’, you’ve had a tough morning. It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly —”
She slapped him, hard and fast, across the face. The bartender’s head came up. “Do I need to come down there and sort you two out?”
Pete was more startled than hurt. “I’m fine, but this one is crazy!”
Her arm flashed out again and grabbed the man by the hair at the back of his head. She pulled him off balance, toward her. “Kiss my throat!”
He did as he was told, she released him and he let out a laugh. “That’s good, Pete. Lovely. Thank you.”
“What’s your name, crazy lady?”
She looked at the floor and smiled demurely. “This morning it was Keres. But now, I think I’ll call myself Shiva.”
“You do have an exotic look. It fits.”
“Thank you, Pete. Let me educate you. After this, you can go tell your big family the big news.” Before he could puzzle that out, she moved to embrace him. She kissed his throat, just over the jugular vein, softly. Then she wrapped her arms around him so python tight, he felt the baby kick. It kicked so hard against her belly and his. It felt like the baby must be drowning.
“Shiva, we shouldn’t —” he wheezed.
“I’ll just take a tiny nip,” she whispered seductively. “One bite is best for now.” Her teeth clamped on the meat of the muscle in his neck and she shook her head as she ripped away a chunk.
Pete Grimsby howled and pushed her back, his hands clasping the wound. His eyes went huge as he watched the blood and gore drip from the woman’s chin. She smiled wider, showing red teeth.
“Careful to wash your hands, Pete. You wouldn’t want that to get infected.” The pistol in her hand pointed at his crotch. “Run.”
The bartender was about to run, too, but she leaned over the bar and shot him in the leg, just below the knee. “Don’t hobble off before you bring me another Fosters. I’m drinking for two.” She wiped her chin with a napkin. “Wow! Pete was salty .”
The bartender winced, swallowed his scream and did as he was told. She looked behind the bar. Pictures on the wall showed the bartender as a younger, thinner man in uniform. Medals hung in a box by the mirror.
“So, you were a soldier?”
“Yes. I was.”
“I am,” she said. “Before I let you go, I’m going to spit in a glass. You’re going to fill it with water and you are going to drink it. Then run, as best you can, and tell everyone you meet about the morning you met Shiva, Destroyer of Worlds.”
God doesn't mind dirty tables and broken chairs
T he next
“A pet bit me. It’s fine. Do you have a big family, Pete?”
“Yes, I do, as a matter of fact. Since the plague, what with the economy, I lost my job. We’re all packed in tight in one house. Had to get away to preserve my sanity.” The man glanced at her swollen belly again and squirmed in his seat. “S’cuse me. It’s bad form to be complaining to you about family right now, isn’t it?”
She patted his hand. “No worries. None at all anymore.”
He withdrew his hand discreetly and raised it to get the bartender’s attention. “Have a cold Fosters ready for the lady, Kenny!” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, most of us lost our jobs. I got a couple of brothers — Leland and Vannever — in the police. They support the rest. If not for them, things would be dire.”
“I see.”
“In times like these, well…any chance you going back to your man?”
“None.”
“What will you do?”
“I don’t have to do anything anymore. I’ll do as I please.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I’ve been doing research for years. I’m going into education next.”
“Teaching, you mean? What will you teach?”
She smiled. “I’ll show you.” She pointed to her throat. “Kiss me gently, here.”
Pete straightened in his chair. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Darlin’, you’ve had a tough morning. It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly —”
She slapped him, hard and fast, across the face. The bartender’s head came up. “Do I need to come down there and sort you two out?”
Pete was more startled than hurt. “I’m fine, but this one is crazy!”
Her arm flashed out again and grabbed the man by the hair at the back of his head. She pulled him off balance, toward her. “Kiss my throat!”
He did as he was told, she released him and he let out a laugh. “That’s good, Pete. Lovely. Thank you.”
“What’s your name, crazy lady?”
She looked at the floor and smiled demurely. “This morning it was Keres. But now, I think I’ll call myself Shiva.”
“You do have an exotic look. It fits.”
“Thank you, Pete. Let me educate you. After this, you can go tell your big family the big news.” Before he could puzzle that out, she moved to embrace him. She kissed his throat, just over the jugular vein, softly. Then she wrapped her arms around him so python tight, he felt the baby kick. It kicked so hard against her belly and his. It felt like the baby must be drowning.
“Shiva, we shouldn’t —” he wheezed.
“I’ll just take a tiny nip,” she whispered seductively. “One bite is best for now.” Her teeth clamped on the meat of the muscle in his neck and she shook her head as she ripped away a chunk.
Pete Grimsby howled and pushed her back, his hands clasping the wound. His eyes went huge as he watched the blood and gore drip from the woman’s chin. She smiled wider, showing red teeth.
“Careful to wash your hands, Pete. You wouldn’t want that to get infected.” The pistol in her hand pointed at his crotch. “Run.”
The bartender was about to run, too, but she leaned over the bar and shot him in the leg, just below the knee. “Don’t hobble off before you bring me another Fosters. I’m drinking for two.” She wiped her chin with a napkin. “Wow! Pete was salty .”
The bartender winced, swallowed his scream and did as he was told. She looked behind the bar. Pictures on the wall showed the bartender as a younger, thinner man in uniform. Medals hung in a box by the mirror.
“So, you were a soldier?”
“Yes. I was.”
“I am,” she said. “Before I let you go, I’m going to spit in a glass. You’re going to fill it with water and you are going to drink it. Then run, as best you can, and tell everyone you meet about the morning you met Shiva, Destroyer of Worlds.”
God doesn't mind dirty tables and broken chairs
T he next
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