Zombie Bitches From Hell Read Online Free PDF

philosophize. No point and it isn’t me. I’m biding
my time until dawn when Rick and Tim and MG and yours truly get in
that fucking balloon and head east to find Jen or whatever is left
of her and if that doesn’t work, maybe we’ll just keep floating
over the Atlantic or wherever to whatever.
    I’m looking for the constellations and cannot
pick them out easily because at this altitude and lack of humidity,
there are so many stars that even the Big Dipper is buried in them.
I look out over the valley and the purple glow of dawn is simmering
on the horizon. I can see the city which is now just a bunch of
dark cubes and rectangles like some kid’s blocks left in a ditch
overnight. No lights, no sounds, no cars, none of the reddish glow
over the Mile High City that you could see from a hundred miles
away just a year ago. I know there must be pockets of men hiding
out in basements or attics or in the hundreds of mine shafts that
pock the foothills. But I also know that most guys are going to
bring their wives and daughters along, maybe a girlfriend. It only
takes one and then they’re all at it; the tearing, the biting, the
gouging, the swallowing. The blood, the death. Just take one of
them along and it’s the end. My mom told me that the devil can’t
come in if you don’t invite her. It’s the most natural invitation
any dick swinger could make.
    I’m interrupted in my reverie. This guy named
Alan opens the bunk door, steps out and lights a cigarette. Wearing
a red and white striped shirt that looks like a barber pole. He
starts walking to the perimeter and sees me, comes over.
    “Hey, kiddo, how’s it hangin’,” he says. Alan
is at most five years older than me but I guess he can call me
“kiddo” if he wants. He was a copy editor—the guy that took the
news from the wire service and translated it into the
teleprompter.
    “Beautiful night. Can’t sleep much. We’re
leaving tomorrow.”
    “Yeah, I know. She must be something. That’s
a lonnnnng way through hostile territory for poontang. No offense.
I’m sorry. Guess it’s getting to me.”
    “No offense taken.”
    “But, ya know, maybe it’s better than hiding
up here, I guess. My wife went to Oklahoma City to help her mom
recuperate from a fall. The old bag tripped on the cat and broke
her hip. Haven’t heard from her in weeks. Maybe she’s hiding, maybe
she’s gone over to the other side. Not much I can do about it. I
dream about her a lot. Sometimes she’s a GaGa and I wake up
sweating bullets; sometimes she’s the beautiful girl I fell in love
with and married. We honeymooned at the Grand Canyon. You know,
that lodge that sits at the north quarter. We’d make love all
night, wake up to hawks hooting the way they do and watch the sun
rise over the eastern rim. When I wake up, I got tears in my eyes.
I know you think I’m a sap or something. But I miss her. So I know
what you’re thinking and why you’re doing it. I’d ask for a lift,
but what would I do when I get there? I guess I’m just a coward.”
He took a long drag on his smoke and exhaled two perfect rings that
floated up like magic donuts into the still night air.
    “This whole shit thing no one could imagine.
Whether I make it or not, don’t think it matters. I’m taking it a
day at a time,” I say, making a good effort to not be
judgmental.
    “You think we can last up here?”
    “I don’t know a better place. At least it’s
out in the open. Not holed up like a rat in trap. Plenty of
supplies. Communication with the outside world. Can’t say.”
    Alan sat a while and stared up at the same
starry sky. Didn’t say another word. Got up, muttered something
that sounded like “Good-night” and went back to the tech shed.
    My cellphone rings and I jump up from a light
sleep. It’s Jen; not her voice but a text. Says: “Hurry. Need U.
Vaccine.”
    Hurry? How the fuck can I hurry. Does she
have the vaccine? Would it be too late? I text her back: “Coming
ASAP. Hang