Lucy sat up and said with Cam’s voice:
“Fuck me, that’s a good plan.”
“We have to stop him,” Lucy said. “He’s destroyed everything, and now he’s trying to remake the world in his image.”
Cam, with Lucy’s eyes, looked up at the dead, gray flesh that pressed against the bars of their cage. One of the zombie’s faces was wedged between the bars. Its cockeyed eyeballs looked in two different directions, and its jaw hung limp. Its teeth clacked together feebly every now and then as it bit at them. The stench was unbearable: rotting eggs, rancid chicken and gasoline. As more and more zombies piled on top of their cage, the light dimmed.
“What’s this horseshit?” Cam said.
“I don’t know,” Lucy returned.
Cam cleared his throat. It was damned inconvenient to sound like a girl every time he talked. A hot girl. A hot girl who fondled herself to one hellacious, rocking orgasm in the middle of a room full of zombies. This was a fucking trip. He felt like his brain was sprained. “I don’t know what to do with you,” he said.
“Help me defeat Retsuc.”
“Duh,” he said.
“And fuck me every now and then.”
“I don’t know if you’ve been readin’ the paper lately, but I don’t have a dick anymore. Or anything else, for that matter.”
“You’ve got me.”
That was a reality that Cam couldn’t deny even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to. After what he’d just felt thrilling through his –er, Lucy’s– body, he didn’t.
The light went out as the zombies mashed themselves against every available area of the cage.
“Okay, this is fucking creepy. I can’t believe you talked me into dropping The Cleaning Lady.”
“Wouldn’t do you any good,” Lucy replied to Cam-Lucy. “These are bombies. Can’t you smell the gas?”
“Yeah,” Cam said, grinning. “Imagine how this whole fucking place would go up.”
“Aren’t you afraid of dying?”
“No.”
Lucy trembled with a little aftershock.
“Fuckin’ stop that, you’re distracting me.”
“Sorry,” Lucy said.
They sat in silence as undead bodies shifted, slithered and groaned above them. The stink intensified. The zombie face above them said, "Rrrrggflf."
“I think we’re going to suffocate in here,” Lucy pointed out. One of the iron bars groaned. Cam reached up with Lucy’s hand and touched it. It had bent under the weight.
“Or something worse is going to happen quicker,” he said.
“What’s worse than suffocating?” she asked. He felt her heart beating faster as adrenaline hit their system.
“Calm the fuck down, Jitters. It’s not going to do a damn bit of good going to pieces now.”
“How are we going to get out of here?” Lucy said. “How are we going to get out of here?”
Cam smacked himself in the face, wincing at the sting. Lucy quieted down.
“Don’t you got that magic of the Ancients thing?”
“Yeah,” Lucy said.
“Well, the shit sucked the gas out of the Cleaning Lady and smacked me right outta my head. Ain’t you got a zombie-melter in there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, what the fuck do you know?”
“I know that I like you.”
“What are you, twelve?”
“I don’t know what the Ancients are going to do! I didn’t study them, that’s Lady M’s schtick!”
It was getting tough to breathe. Cam could feel their lungs working harder and harder.’
“Who the fuck needs to study? Just let ‘er rip!”
Cam felt Lucy retreat into their mind. He followed, just to see what she would do. They headed toward a light, which got brighter and brighter. But before they reached it, Lucy mumbled something that sounded like “Deepfried barbell hooters” and the bright light flashed and turned everything blinding white.
Cam felt like he was falling. And when the fucking floor slammed into his back and elbows, he realized he had fallen. Fresh air whooshed in to surround them, and he sucked in a deep lungful of it. Wire-covered lights illuminated the painted cinderblock walls. “Gymnasium” was written in foot-tall black letters with an arrow pointing to the right. He looked up and saw the cage over the hole in the ceiling with the zombie pile still smashed against it.
“Nice!” Cam said. “The ancients fuckin’ rock!”
“The old hole-in-the-floor trick,” Lucy said, “Gets ‘em every time.”
The iron cage groaned as if in response, then snapped and zombies started tumbling through the hole like lemmings. Exploding lemmings.
Lucy shielded her eyes while Cam laughed. Lucy took control of the body. “We’re getting the hell out of here,” she said. Glancing down at her clothing, which at this point consisted of nothing but a wet thong, she threw up her hands and sprinted up the hallway, Cam’s laughter trailing from her open mouth.
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Wonderful entry. Entertaining. Very fun to read. (I'm loving this LuCam business). But, I have to say, that exit was way too easy. Fun (particularly the bombies falling through the hole and exploding). Just too easy. If I were Selig Retsuc, I'd feel a tad disappointed that all the hard work was so easily thwarted, particularly after he managed to get a great deal on flying zombies up from Mexico. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteYeah, that did occur to me. I waited for the brilliant solution to the complicated problem of a zombie pyramid, but it never showed. But hey, I was chillin', sippin' on gin & juice, so what did I care?
ReplyDeleteBy the way, I want to extend a sparkling welcome to our most recent "follower" Jesus Christ. Question for you (and anyone else who is reading these entries but not actively writing them), do you find this whole zombie thing:
ReplyDeletea) vaguely entertaining
b) annoying--too many inside jokes to be even remotely interesting to an outside audience
c) boring (in the you-feel-sorry-for-us-that- we're-so-entertained-by-this sense)
d) endlessly entertaining when it's a virgil or lizzie chapter, painfully amateurish when it's anything else
Thank you, Jesus.
I was thinking the ancients could liquify the zombies, then it would be so amazingly disgusting, but LuCam would have to swim in a sea of liquid zombie to get to safety. Maintaining sanity in that situation would have had to be addressed, though.
ReplyDeleteOR there's the "hole-in-the-floor" trick. I'd never have thought of that. Nice work, Todd. Now the question becomes, what conflict do we tackle first: getting Cam's body back, reviving Cam's zombie body, saving Virgil from Meg, stopping Selig Retsuc, or finding new and exciting ways for two people to fuck when they really have "become one"? Our problems seem insurmountable.
As for Jesus . . . will we even hear Jesus's response to your question, Aaron? I'm glad our blog is a members only event in that only we can make postings. But have you asked a question that will never be answered?
As an fantasy novel fan, I find the blog, for the most part, very entertaining (especially the character assassinations in the earlier postings along with the subtle - and not so subtle - pokes at each others literary counterparts). I do think that Leslie has a point about the Power of the Ancients liquify thing. There's nothing quite like the thought of an olympic size pool filled with zombie goo. Perhaps it would give Michael Phelps even more reason to "pull a few tubes" before swimming a few laps...
ReplyDeleteI would like to know what heeps happening to Lucy's clothes. I took her to the department store with the express purpose of clothing her, and now she is naked again. Oh, I'm sorry. She's got a wet thong. Can't forget that. I like how it's no longer even necessary to explain where her clothes go - they are just gone. What happened to her skirt?
ReplyDeleteIt's a force of nature in a zombie world. Hot women are constantly having to replace shredded or ripped clothing. A hazard of the genre, I think. I'm not even sure what happened to her bra, for that matter.
ReplyDeleteAs to her skirt, perhaps it was imbued with a zombie life of its own and is at this very moment carousing, looking for cute legs to eat.
I guess Lucy will just have to accustom herself to shopping a lot.
I don't think she'll have a problem with that. Especially as everything is free for the taking now. However, it will be interesting to see what Cam wants her to wear.
ReplyDeleteIf, indeed, that includes anything other than what she now has on.
So, I've been giving this some thought and decided I can't abide the easy escape. I realize I'm about to violate several co-writing rules (some generated by my own whining I believe), but damnit, the hole-in-the-floor trick is just not sufficient, particularly with this zombie goo idea floating around.
ReplyDeleteSounds like you're on the precipice of doing something you won't be able to take back.
ReplyDeleteIf it is truly your decision to go and rework the past by re-writing it in the future, I say go with your gut. You might consider (if you will) that casting aside partner-writing courtesy may have unforseen consequences. So, when you reap what you may sow with your revisionist history, and when (almost assuredly) your whining goes from this currently tolerable plane to an entirely different world, remember one thing:
You started it.