Orthodontics in the Zombie Apocalypse

3. R.I.P. Missy (1/2)

A scowl darkens my face as we scuffle through the maze of totaled and abandoned cars, hopping over break lines and dismantled tires whilst simultaneously trying to avoid stepping on disfigured body parts.

"I can't believe you set spikes out on the road," I grumble, kicking aside a bit of entrails which leaves behind a red stain on my boot. "It was almost my first anniversary with Missy."

"Missy? You named your car Missy?" Mikah questions with a thick eyebrow raised.

I shrug. "I thought she ought to have a name, at least for the gravestone. I didn't really call her anything until now."

"So, you waited until now to name your car, and you decide, of all names, on Missy?" Distaste strikes bitterly on his tongue.

"She looked like a Missy, I think," I ponder, tapping an index finger to my lips. I glance at his raised eyebrows and my scowl deepens. "You know what? I don't need your approval for the name of the car that you killed! Now it's your job to find us a decent vehicle so that we can get to your uncle and I can finally get my braces off."

"Then what?" Mikah asks, squatting to peer into a lime green Mercedes.

"What?" I ask, stuffing my fists into the pockets of my dress.

"After you get your braces off, what's your plan? I'm sure your family is a bunch of zombies by now, so where are you going to go?"

I shrug. "I'll figure it out. Maybe you and I will have a happily ever after." And I could see it. We would be sitting on the beach, both of us with straight, braces-less teeth, gazing into each other's eyes underneath the colors of the setting sun. Lustful, and concerned only with one another.

Mikah's nose crinkles.

"How come you even stopped my car?"

Mikah cocks his thick head of wavy shoulder-length hair. "I needed a ride."

My lips part, my eyebrows drop, and my eyes narrow. "You needed a ride, so instead of holding up a thumb, you decided to kill the only mode of working transportation around?"

His long fingers grope under the locks of dirty blonde hair. "Yeah..."

I roll my eyes while my head wags back and forth. "You're an idiot."

"Ah, but..." Mikah reaches backwards, fingers around a door handle, and opens the door to a sleek, black Lamborghini with electric blue rims. It is a luxury sports car to the highest pedigree. "I did find us a ride."

A deformed animal leaps out from the pristine leather seats and begins pursuing me.

I shriek. "Do something!" I scream as I run for my life. "Mikah!"

The surfer-style boy catapults a large chunk of asphalt debris at the zombie. It does little more than break the thing's wrist, causing its hand to dangle limply down, flapping as the zombie chases after me.

I skid over the highway in a quick U-turn and sprint towards Mikah. The zombie seems to realize that the other live meat has a little more to him than I do, and deems Mikah the better lunch choice. Finally free from preoccupations involved in trying to not be eaten, I grab a conveniently dismembered metal pipe from the ground and take a batting stance. "Ay, batte' batte'! Ay, batte' batte'! SWING!" Right as Mikah passes, I crack the zombie in the skull with the makeshift bat, causing decaying ichor-like blood to gush from the wound. The thing falls to the ground, and I hit it before it can stand again. Then I hit it three times more.

"Bmmmaaahh," it grumbles, still writhing and squirming.

I continue beating the undead flesh until it seems like every bone is cracked and the zombie is unable to move enough to come after me. Mikah whistles a long, high note that trails off at the end in astonishment.

Panting, I drop the pipe and turn back toward Mikah. "Thanks for the help," I gasp disapprovingly.

Mikah flashes his teeth in an awkward smile, but his eyes remain like a deer caught in the headlights. "Remind me to stick with you."

"Remind me that you make good bait," I grumble, stalking past him to the initial vehicle of interest. "I'm driving."