She was seated behind her desk now, hoping Alec was all right, but mostly wondering what this whole zombie thing was about. Her husband had called her from the hospital, saying it was the single most weirdest case he’d ever been involved with, and even the specialists at the hospital had been absolutely baffled.
The doors of the library swung open and Mrs. Samson walked in, carrying her usual shopping bag filled with romance novels to return. Marge didn’t know how she did it, but she read at least five or six novels a day. Sometimes more.
Mrs. Samson now came walking up to the counter and deposited the novels in front of the librarian, then looked up and said, a little hesitantly.“I just want you to know that I don’t believe a word they say about your brother Alec, Marge. Not one single word.”
“Why, thank you, Margaret,” she said. “That’s very nice of you to say. And I’ll be sure to tell Alec. He’ll be so pleased.”
Margaret adjusted her glasses and gave her an owlish look.“I mean, I can certainly imagine how a man of your brother’s dimensions would have no trouble dragging Pamela Witherspoon into those bushes and overpowering her. Pinning her arms to the ground and having his way with her—ravaging her, so to speak. His lips on hers, his hands all over her body, ripping the buttons of her blouse while his tongue takes on a life of its own, plunging into her mouth over and over and over again…” She was breathing a little rapidly, her rheumy eyes glittering. “But like I said, I’m sure it never happened and Pamela is simply making it all up, like a wanton woman like her is wont to do.”
“Yes,” said Marge, as she confirmed that ‘Primal Passion,’ ‘Hot Stud,’ ‘Take Me,’ ‘Barely a Lady,’ ‘Message From a Rogue’ and ‘A Billionaire’s Virgin Capture’ were checked in again. “Yes, I’m sure it’s all a big misunderstanding and it will be cleared up very soon now. And then things will go back to normal again.”
“That would certainly be very nice,” said Mrs. Samson with a radiant smile, and shuffled off in the direction of the romance section for her haul of the day.
Marge shook her head as she watched the old lady move off, then was alerted by the sound of shouting outside. She got up from behind her desk and quickly made her way to the glass doors to look out. The sight that met her eyes was a very unusual one: a dozen zombies were tottering along the street, arms outstretched, fingers grasping the air, as they made a beeline for the decorative pond in front of the library.
One by one, they all plunged in, as if they’d never experienced water in their lives.
It was a horrifying sight, and Marge inadvertently held her hands to her face. Then, as one of the zombies’ eyes fastened on hers, she quickly locked the library doors and backed away.
The zombie apocalypse had reached Hampton Cove, and now they were all in terrible, terrible danger!
“What’s going on, Marge?” asked Mrs. Samson, but then she caught sight of the strange spectacle and said, “Oh.” She blinked and adjusted her glasses. “Is that… an orgy?”
Chapter 25
“We have to escape,” said Brutus.
“No, we just have to wait for Odelia to show up,” I said. “Which she will tomorrow morning, just like she promised, and then everything will be all right.”
We’d been fed more kibble, but again it was mostly inedible, something I’m sure had been registered by that infernal camera.
A little hatch in the bottom of my cage had opened up and the excess kibble had all been removed and now my cage was kibble-free again. Which of course was not the way I liked it, but it was better than having to smell that horrible sour kibble.
Maybe they were making adjustments to their secret formula?
“I say we do as Max says,” said Dooley now, my faithful friend.
“I’m not so sure, you guys,” said Misty. “I think Odelia might show up tomorrow morning, as promised, and the pet food people will simply send her away with some excuse.”
“Odelia would never accept any excuse not to see us,” I countered. “She’ll barge her way in here and save us from these people for sure.”
All around us, laments had been rising up now that we were complete, all the physicals over, a full contingent of test subjects ready to go. From time to time the laments were interspersed with some hatch being opened either to drop kibble in or out, but apart from that, not much had happened, and we hadn’t seen a single human, and most certainly not Fred Peppard, who’d seemed so nice and welcoming before.
“How would we even escape?” asked Harriet now, who’d been refusing to lay down on what she deemed was a filthy cage floor but now finally succumbed to the temptation to take a load off her paws. “These cages look pretty sturdy, Brutus.”
“The hatch,” Brutus said, pointing at the hatch in the ceiling of his cage. “I’m sure Dooley could manage to wriggle through. He’s tiny.”
“I’m not tiny,” said Dooley, a little indignant. Though he was staring at that hatch and clearly wondering if Brutus was right.