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“So who’s the father going to be?” asked Chase.

“Oh, I have someone in mind you’re all gonna love.”

“Who?” asked Marge.

She smiled.“Let’s just say it’ll be a nice surprise.”

Chapter 12

That evening, Odelia officially invited us to go zombie-hunting. I know I should have been excited, as I’d never engaged in such an activity before, but frankly I was a little trepidatious. Personally I don’t know any zombies, but from what I’ve heard they’re not very nice creatures and can, when provoked, turn vicious and downright nasty.

So it was with a heart weighed down with the weight of woe that I set paw in Odelia’s pickup and allowed myself to be transported to the town park, where the nocturnal vigil was taking place.

Odelia, dressed for the occasion in a tank top, short-short skirt and a blond wig, looked as if she wasn’t there to pick up zombies but men. In other words, she looked like Julia Roberts inPretty Woman.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” she asked nervously as she pulled down her skirt, which was showing so much leg it almost appeared as if she was nothing but legs. She was also on high heels and in fishnet stockings. The end result was supposed to look sexy, but I guess I’m not the rightaudience, as I didn’t think it was all that sexy-looking at all.

“I think it’s going to work wonders,” said Chase, the only one who seemed confident in the scheme. “If that zombie sees you, he’s going to try to jump you so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

“My head is spinning already,” she said, “but that may have something to do with this wig. It’s really tight around my head.”

“Has to be, babe, or it will fall off.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” I asked, and I think I was speaking for the entire cat contingent when I posed this question.

“You just keep a close eye on the proceedings,” she said. “And if you see any sign of the zombie, you holler.”

Well, holler is one thing cats do very well. In fact it often earns us shoes thrown in our direction, especially when the hollering takes place in the context of cat choir.

“You do realize we’re totally going to miss cat choir, don’t you?” said Harriet.

“I know, but this is more important,” I said.

“I’m not so sure about that,” she argued. “Odelia doesn’t need us. She has Chase to look after her. Besides, what are we going to do when she’s attacked by a zombie? Everyone knows zombies are dead people, and you can’t protect yourself from dead people. All you can do is run.”

“Or bash their heads in,” said Brutus, who’d watched his share of zombie movies.

“Bash their heads in?” asked Dooley. “What do you mean, Brutus?”

“Well, zombies are operated by their brain stem, the most primal part of the brain, so if you bash their heads in, you make them fully dead, instead of just half dead.” He leaned in, and added, “Their brain is where the virus lives—the virus that made them undead in the first place. So a well-aimed thunk on the noggin will take care of them.”

“But… how are we going to deliver that well-aimed thunk on the noggin?” asked Dooley. “We’re cats. We can’t even get that high.”

“Don’t you worry about that part, Dooley,” said Brutus. “Me and Chase got it all covered. All you have to do is play canary in the coal mine. Tweet if you see the zombie.”

“Tweet if I see the…” Dooley muttered, thinking hard.

Brutus gave me a wink.“You, too, Max. Just be on the lookout for the zombie, and me my man Chase will take care of the rest.”

“And how are you going to handle the zombie, exactly?” I asked,

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, Maxie baby,” he said, puffing out his chest a little.

I rolled my eyes in response, and even Harriet seemed less than impressed by her mate’s fighting spirit.

We finally arrived at the park, and walked the distance to the spot where apparently the altercation between Pamela Witherspoon and the zombie had taken place.

Chase quickly withdrew into the bushes that lined the road, and so did the rest of us. Odelia, of course, didn’t have that luxury. She was the one acting as zombie bait.

Suddenly, Santa Claus came hurrying up, pulling on his red pants which were clearly too wide, and adjusting his white beard, which was a little ill-fitting, too.

“Alec!” Chase hissed from his bush. “Get over here!”

With surprising alacrity Santa Alec disappeared into the bushes.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said. “Marge gave me a long lecture about the inappropriateness of our mother having another baby and I couldn’t get away.”

“Are you sure you being here is a good idea? You are being suspected of assaulting a woman in this very spot, and here you are, returning to the scene of the crime.”

“Pretty sure no one will recognize me,” said Alec.

“You’re dressed up as Santa Claus, Alec! You stick out like a sore thumb!”

“Yeah, I probably should have worn something a little less conspicuous,” the former chief admitted. “Then again, like I said, no one will recognize me, and isn’t that the main effect we’re going for here?”

“The main effect is catching this zombie.”

“Yeah, that, too.”