Busted Flush

“I thought we got everyone out of there,” I said. I stood up and stretched. Something popped in my back, but it felt good.

“Not everyone,” she said. Her voice shook, and that got my attention. “Some of my people are still there.”

“I thought all your people were here,” I said. I couldn’t help the exasperated tone. “Damn it, you should have told me that there were more out there.”

She looked chagrined. About time, I thought.

“They didn’t want to stay here,” she said. “They don’t like the zombies.”

“Well, big points to them for showing good taste in companions, but the Russian judge is going to give them a major deduction for staying in New Orleans when there’s—you know—a hurricane coming!” I ended up shouting that last bit. “How do you know they’re in trouble?”

She shrugged. “Anything dead I can zombify. And there’s lots of mice around.”

I thought I might hurl. “Okay, no need to say more,” I said.

“Fuck you, you don’t know what it’s like!” she yelled. She took a step toward me, raising her fist as if she were going to hit me. Oooo, scared of that. “You fucking rich bitch. They might only have the house they’re in. Or the clothes on their back. And then someone tells them they have to pack up and get out because a hurricane might hit. Who can afford a fucking motel? And who’s to say the landlord or the bank won’t take your house away while you’re gone?”

Her zombies had come into the room while she was ranting. They looked pissed. But I knew they weren’t. It was her. She was possessing them, after all.

“Look, we don’t have time for the niceties here,” I said. “Let’s just get your people out.”

She glowered at me. God, I was sick of people who had a hate on for me while I was trying to help them.

I went to the front window and looked outside. It was pouring. Water covered the street and sidewalk.

“Do you have a boat?”

“Yeah, we got one,” she replied.

“Can your zombies carry it?”

“Yeah,” she said sullenly. “My zombies are handy.”

“Okay, get your boat and your zombies and meet me outside.”

For a moment I thought she was going to argue with me, but then she just set her lips into a thin line and led the zombies toward the back of the house.

After I pulled on my slicker and grabbed my emergency bag, I went outside. Even standing on the wide veranda of Hoodoo Mama’s house, I could feel the rain pelting me. It was coming down harder now, and I knew we didn’t have a lot of time.

Hoodoo Mama appeared around the corner of the house. Behind her were two big zombies carrying a boat between them. There was a small outboard motor clamped on the stern and a pair of oars inside.

“Don’t they get tired?” I yelled. The wind and rain were howling. “They don’t feel shit,” Hoodoo Mama replied. “They’re dead.” There wasn’t a lot to be said after that.

Hoodoo Mama maneuvered the boat toward one brick building that was covered with graffiti. She steered us toward a fire escape at the rear of the building. The zombies dropped off the boat and dog-paddled to it. Hoodoo Mama tossed them the rope, and they pulled us to the fire escape and tied up the boat.

Hoodoo Mama led the way up to the second floor. She grabbed the doorknob, but the door was locked.

“Shit.” She kicked the bottom of the door.

“I can blast it,” I said. I really wanted to blast something.

“Can you just take out the lock?”

I hadn’t bubbled since I’d gotten up to this weight, and I really wanted to do something big. On the other hand, the neighborhood was kinda crappy already, and after the water receded, there didn’t need to be a big gaping hole in the side of the building.

“Yeah, just a sec,” I said. I held my hands up and concentrated on the lock. Liquid fire surged through my veins. When it got hot enough, I let the bubble fly.

The lock exploded with a crunching sound, and Hoodoo Mama smiled at me. It was surprising to see such a sweet smile. Then it vanished. She turned away and opened the door.

Gray light filtered in through windows high up on the walls. There were offices ringing a wide balcony, with the center open to the warehouse floor below. We ran to the railing, looked down, and saw people clinging to rickety wooden shelves.

“Help us! Jesus, help us!” I saw arms waving here and there in the pale light.

“Why didn’t they just come up here?” I whispered to Hoodoo Mama.

“Look over there,” she said, pointing. The stairway had broken off halfway up.

“Then why didn’t they go out the door down there?”

“They went down to check the barricade on the door when the water started coming in. The stairs collapsed when they went back up.”

“And you know this because . . . ?”

“Remember? Zombie rats.”

I sighed and bent over to rest my head on the railing. I could taste bile in the back of my throat. I wanted to be anywhere but here with the responsibility for these people.

A tremendous crashing sound came from outside. A shriek came from below.

“It’s okay,” I shouted, straightening up. “We’re here to help you.”