The Christmas Zombie Read online

  He had almost started a fire, but he was afraid being too warm would impact his watchfulness. So he allowed the cold to continue filtering in through the gaps in the damaged doors and windows, then he threw a down quilt over his bed in the nearest bedroom, climbed under it, and slowly let his muscles relax. There was almost pain from his day-long tenseness, and he sighed with relief at lying full-length on the bed.

  The wind picked up outside and howled through the holes, sounding like animated wolves baying at the moon. He wondered what those two others were doing — huddling in a hole somewhere, or under a fallen tree?

  More important? Were they alive too? Had he almost killed two living humans? And why shouldn’t he have? They had attacked his home. Then again, nothing in this situation had an obvious explanation. Maybe he would look for them, see if his suspicions were correct. Maybe he’d make a mistake. Another mistake. But maybe he had to try.

  The loneliness had gotten to him, and only now did he realize it.

  Moisture pooled at the corner of his eye and he blinked it away.

  Awake, he waited.

  The cold seeped into his skin even under the quilt. The house had become an ice-field, and he was glad he’d kept his clothes on. He wondered about the woman, but tried to let his mind wander.

  He heard a small shuffling at the door. He sensed she was standing there, looking at him in the dark. He felt her eyes on him. He heard her shivering, her teeth clacking together. How had they managed to stay warm on the outside? Did they have a shelter? A shelter nearby?

  He was on his side, facing away from the door.

  She took a step into the room, then another step. She was dragging something. The blanket? He hoped it was the blanket. His muscles tensed again.

  She approached the bed, still shivering, her movements sounding stiff and automatic.

  Shock, he thought. Shock in addition to trauma.

  Or stealth.

  His hand was under the pillow, clutching the warm (yet cold) Colt Python he had slipped underneath when he’d gone to bed. His finger was on the trigger.

  Her breathing was ragged, shallow. Not stealthy at all.

  Lost, afraid.

  His muscles tensed as she lifted the quilt and climbed under, next to him. His finger brushed the trigger, unsure. Her shivering made the bed quiver. He lay still.

  A half hour passed.

  She slid slowly closer and he let her. She was sniffling now, a small hitching sound.

  Lonely.

  He let her share in his warmth. They huddled under the quilt together, slowly warming despite the cold wind. He smiled in the dark. He’d have to throw out the bedclothes. Sometime after midnight, when her breathing was regular, he took his finger off the trigger.

  Maybe… lonely no more.

  The coming day seemed a little less dangerous.

  It was Christmas Eve.

  * * The End * *

  ☮

  Bonus Reprint

  In the anthology Small Bites, published in 2004 as a benefit for the great author Charles Grant,

  the gimmick was that each story had to come in under 500 words. This was one of my three stories

  in that book, and it’s still a favorite of mine! This is its first reprinting…

  and an appropriately light closer for this publication, I thought.

  STAND BY YOUR ZOMBIE

  W.D. Gagliani

  What else could Linda do?

  Yes, the virus had turned dark-haired men into meat-craving, lurching eating machines. When Brad had begun coughing up blood-flecked phlegm, she knew what it meant. She watched MSNBC and CNN and Headline News, and that cute anchorman had started coughing and died right on the air. Then he’d risen up and commenced chomping on the woman anchor, the cute one Brad lusted after, and the network went black for three hours.

  Linda knew the danger. The government had passed an emergency law saying she was supposed to turn in Brad’s corpse as soon as the National Guard trucks pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot down the street. The trucks had come in just last night.

  But goddamn it, Brad had never been so good to her. He’d stopped hitting her for messing up dinner. or not having a drink ready when he came home. He’d stopped making wise-ass remarks about her to the neighbors. He’d stopped saying mean, untrue things about her to his mother while Linda sat in the same room. He’d stopped leering at the new woman who’d moved in down the street — what was her name? Brooke.

  And his death had somehow left him with a raging erection no Viagra or Cialis could have produced.

  After she figured out how to muzzle Brad like a guard dog, she found he was pliable as a corpse. His dead, soulless eyes seemed to lust for her flesh, but only as food. Linda had a whole different sort of lust in mind. And tied up as he was, she was more than happy to sate herself at will, no matter how badly his deteriorating carcass smelled.

  Society had broken down, but they still made PineSol. Go figure.

  No, government orders or not, she wasn’t going to give up Brad, not when he had finally become the sort of husband she wanted. Maybe they’d send blond and red-haired soldiers (all the genetically dark-haired had fallen victim to the virus, too), but she would say he had left her. She would take her chances. After all, she had vowed to honor and obey. He couldn’t give orders any more, thank God, but what she did with his body could be called honoring.

  There was one catch…

  She couldn’t ignore his muffled mewling and whimpering, his rolling pupils, his skin turning sallow.

  She dialed and the call went through after a short wait. Order was being restored on a daily basis.

  “Hello?” The voice at the other end was tentative.

  “Hi, Brooke? It’s Linda.” From down the street!” She covered the mouthpiece with her slender hand. “Hang in there, Brad, my love,” she whispered.

  Into the phone, she said, “Brooke, honey, you want to come by for coffee and a snack? I’m real lonely. Okay, dear, see you in ten!”

  Brad’s tremors seemed to subside as she went about setting the table for one.

  * * The End * *

  ☮

  Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!

  ❃

  Other works by W.D. Gagliani:

  Wolf’s Trap – Nick Lupo Series, 1 (Samhain Publishing reissue)

  Wolf’s Gambit – Nick Lupo Series, 2 (47North)

  Wolf’s Bluff – Nick Lupo Series, 3 (47North)

  Wolf’s Edge – Nick Lupo Series, 4 (Samhain Publishing)

  Wolf’s Cut – Nick Lupo Series, 5 (Samhain Publishing 2014)

  Savage Nights (Hard-noir Thriller)

  Shadowplays (Fiction Collection)

  The Great Belzoni and the Gait of Anubis (Novella)

  Mysteries & Mayhem (with David Benton, Fiction Collection)

  Mood Elevator (with David Benton, Short Story)

  Love at First Sting – A Splatterpunk Story (with David Benton, Short Story)

  www.wdgagliani.com

  www.williamdgagliani.com

  www.facebook.com/wdgagliani

  @WDGagliani

  Copyright © 2012 W.D. Gagliani