Dead Life (Book 3) (16 page)

              “There's somebody walking around in the pool!”  He was screaming half hysterical.

              “Sorry mate.  I told you the maid was out there.”

              “You didn't say she was a zombie!”

              We all went out to the pool to see what the hell was going on.  In the deep end of the pool, a female zombie walked around.  Her long hair flowed all around her.  She looked up from under the water and tried to reach us.  It was trying to make it's way out of the pool but each time she came to the  incline heading to the shallow end of the pool, she slid back.

              “What the hell, Rich?”  Al asked incredulously.

              “She showed up for work the first day all this shit went down.  Someone had bit her on the arm when she'd first left home to come here.  I bandaged her up.  It wasn't much of a bite.  Hell, it barely broke the skin.  After an hour or so, she started feeling ill so she came out here to rest.  Later when I came back to check on her, she was one of them.  We scuffled about a bit and she ended up in the drink.  I couldn't figure out how to get her out of there and she can't get out so I left her there.”

              “What are you going to do if you ever want to go swimming?”  Rick asked.

              “It's late September, mate.  It costs a fortune to heat that pool.  I won't be swimming until next summer.”

              “Is that a gas heater you have for your pool?”  Al asked.

              “Yes.”

              “Is the gas still working?”

              “I believe so.”

              “Who's going to send you the bill?”

              “Bloody gas company.  Oh, that's right.  I hadn't thought of that.  Want to give me a hand getting her out of there?”

              Rich had one of those hooks you use for dragging out drowning victims or dead bodies (in this case) out of the pool.  We used it to push her into the shallow end of the pool.  Rich almost had a fit when Al got ready to shoot her while she was still in the pool so we nudged her over to the steps.  The girls got tired of watching us fumble around with the zombie so they went inside.  Al finally was able to get the damn thing to where it was able to get up the steps and I shot her when she finally got up on the deck.  The dead body fell back into the pool.  Now Rich was really upset.  A cloud of black blood spread across the water.

              “That was just great.  I was hoping to have a swim tomorrow.”  Rich lamented.

              “Just dump a bunch of chlorine in and run the filter.  It'll clear up in a few days.”  Al said.

              “Says you.”  Rich said.

              “I used to have a pool.  You'll be fine.”

              “You sure?  I don't want to go for a swim and end up a zombie.  Then I'd be trapped in there.”

              “Chlorine will kill anything.  Just shock it real good.”

              “Alright then, mate.  Let's get her out of there.”

              Al drug the body to the side of the pool and we lifted her out.  Rich got a wheel barrel from the garage and wheeled her out to the field.  He said he'd bury her later.  I had the feeling later would probably never happen.  While all this was going on, Rick took his shower.  When Rich got back from getting rid of the body, he took us upstairs and showed us to the showers.

              “Al, you and Cindy, was it?”

              “Yes, I'm Cindy and she's Gina.”

              “Alright then, you two can have the guest room.  Steve, you and Gina can use the shower in my bedroom.  You'll have to use this other room to sleep in though so don't be doing the nasty in my bed.”

              “Thanks Rich.  We'll get showered and be right down then.”  I said.

              Rich went out and closed the door.  His bedroom was huge and as nicely decorated as the rest of the house. Hanging on the wall over the king sized bed was a double edged ax. The ax was very impressive looking, with a long heavy wooden handle, and what looked like a silver blade. On the wall next to the ax hung a display case, inside were two knives. My father had collected knives and while I didn't know as much about knives as he had, I could tell these were of excellent quality.

              “Look at those.”

              “Are you guys sure about staying here? If you look in the basement I'll bet there's a torture chamber down there.”

              “You think so? Want to have a look in the closet? See if we can find some fun toys?”

              Gina walked to the head of the bed to get a closer look at the ax and knives.

              “This ax has a name carved in the handle. “Howie” It must be the guy that Rich chopped to bits. Same with the knives. They each have the name of the guy whose throat Rich slashed.”  “Dave”

              “I doubt Rich killed anybody with either. He looks more like the gun type to me. You ready for that shower? Let's get you undressed.”

              We took a long hot shower. Rich must have had a hell of a hot water heater. Gina and I were in there forever. In all honesty, a lot more than showering went on. I was definitely going to need to know where Al kept that Viagra. We got dressed and went downstairs. Everyone was in the den waiting for us.

              “What the hell you two been up to? Me and Cindy were done with our showers half an hour ago.”

              “Being a gentleman, I'll have to refuse to answer that question Al.”

              “I hope you stayed out of my bed.”

              “Of course we did Rich. I'm sorry. Really though, all we did was shower.” Gina said.

              “No worries. I was going to suggest we had a spot of tea but it's a little past tea time. Who wants a drink? I've got a well stocked bar. Let's see what everyone wants. Then we can get dinner started.”

              All of us ended up having a beer other than Rich. He was drinking some kind of English malt whiskey. Al must have still been upset about what happened earlier because he was going at it pretty hard. Rich seemed to enjoy having a drinking buddy. Every time Al got another beer Rich filled his glass with whiskey.  The two were getting to be great friends. Rich fired up the grill and threw some steaks on. He said his favorite thing about America was the food. “In England, it was impossible to find a good steak”. We offered to get something from our stores of food but Rich insisted on being a good host. “It wouldn't do to let his guests supply the meal.” Besides he had plenty. It seemed Rich was something of a recluse and kept lots of supplies on hand. We finished dinner, sat around the table talking and continued drinking. By this time the rest of us were getting into the spirit of things and the evening was turning into quite the celebration.

              “Rich, Steve and I were wondering. What's the story with the ax and knives in your bedroom?”

              “You like them do you?”

              “Hang on a minute,” Al said. “You've got an ax in your bedroom? Is it for zombies?”

              “No, it's strictly for decoration mate. A director friend of mine gave those to me. I'm a writer. I've got a series of books out. The ax and knives are the weapons my two main characters fancy.”

              “What kind of books you write?” Rick asked.

              “It's a bit ironic Rick. I write zombie novels.”

              “You're kidding me.” Al said.

              “No, I've got thirty-seven books out there. Actually, there's seven more on my computer.”

              “Why didn't you publish them?”

              “Well Cindy, if you must know, I lost interest.”

              “Then why'd you write them?” she asked.

              “Because I love to write. Thought maybe one day I might change my mind and go ahead and put them out.”

              “So Rich, did you always have money or did you get all this from your writing?” Al asked.

              “That's none of your business Al. Why do you ask those kind of questions?” Cindy said as she slapped Al across the back of the head.

              “Hey. No violence. You'll give me a trauma.”

              “It's okay Cindy. Can't see as it matters now. Besides Al's my mate. He can ask me whatever he wants. I made my money off the books. Well, not so much the books as the TV show they made from them.”

              “
You wrote a TV show?
” Gina asked.

              “No, they bought the rights from me. I was a Producer on the show for a few years. But things went south so they bought me out.”

              “What happened?”

              “Well Steve, my stories were about this group of guys that were just an average bunch. You know, everyday people that got caught up in this zombie apocalypse. Kind of like the one we're having now.” Rich stopped for a moment and a sad look came across his face. “You know, I really don't want to talk about this.”

              “Aw, come on goddammit. Tell the story.”

              “Al, leave him alone. If he doesn't want to tell us, he doesn't have to.”

              “Honey, could you be on my side, just once?”

              “I'll tell you. It just bothers me that I made all this money off zombies and now here they really are.”

              “I hold you personally responsible.”

              “That's it. Al, I'm going to bed. Rich, thanks for everything. Come on Al, let's go.”

              “I'll be there in a minute. How can I leave now? My friend is telling me his story. You should stick around. Come on Rich, tell it.”

              “Well what happened was they turned my books into a show about a bunch of guys shagging their way across the country. They did kill a few zombies along the way. Mostly though, they chased the ladies. Every episode had some naked bird in it with Howie running after her with his bum out for the world to see.”

              “I take it that wasn't how it was in your books.”

              “No Steve, the books weren't like that at all. Like I said, these were an average bunch. When the world fell apart, they rose to the challenge. They became heroes; not a bunch of vagabonds out looking for their next piece of arse. Anyway, I had a huge falling out with the production company. I did a few interviews voicing my displeasure with the whole thing. Next thing you know, I'm served with a court order telling me to keep my mouth shut or I'd be sued. The lawyers handled it from then on. Two years ago, they bought me out. Made a hell of a lot of money. The funny thing is at first I wrote because I loved it. Then, when I started making a little coin at it, all that mattered was the money. Now I'm back to writing because I want to.”

              “So you didn't publish anymore because they wouldn't let you?”

              “Actually, they wanted me to write more books. Whatever I wrote was good for their damn series. I didn't want to give them the satisfaction. I'll be damned if I'll help them make any more money off my idea. I have been writing books waiting for the television series to end. Then I was planning on having them published.”

              “Why did you move to America?” Gina asked.

              “Had to get away from it all. Everybody knew me as the zombie guy. Like I said, I didn't want anything to do with the show. Best thing I could do was leave. So here I am.”

              “Glad to have you Rich. How about another drink?”

              “Al, don't you think you've had enough? I'm ready for bed.”

              “Come on Cindy.  Let's keep the party going. It's still early.”

              “I've had enough. Rich, thanks for everything, but I'm going to bed. Al, you do what you want. Goodnight.”

              “Gina, you ready?”

              “Yeah Steve, I'm tired. Let's call it a night.”

              Everyone was ready for bed except Al and Rich. They decided to keep the party going. Cindy was pissed but she said Al was a big boy and could do what he wanted. We could hear the two of them laughing and singing way into the night. Gina and I had unfinished business to attend to. We wasted no time getting to our room, tearing each others clothes off, and ravaging each others bodies. I couldn't help but think of the time we'd wasted before all this happened. Arguing over a little white lie. Age is irrelevant; especially when two people have the sexual chemistry the two of us have. It also doesn't hurt to have a nearly unlimited supply of little blue pills.                 

Chapter 14