Orthodontics in the Zombie Apocalypse

13. Skinny Jeans to Hurdle Fences (2/2)

I look at the handle lolling from my fingertips. Then my phone buzzes. Again, I had forgotten about it. My friend, Jane, texted. I take a moment to read it while everyone else stares at me like I'm insane.

"Are you actually reading a text right now?" Mikah asks.

"Yeah. It's Jane. She said everyone in her neighborhood looks pretty hungover. She moved to Nebraska last year. Guess the zombies finally made it there." I text her back with a quick explanation of how the zombie apocalypse started and that she should gather a bunch of guns like an uncultured hillbilly. But it doesn't send. I take a step back and try again. Now it sends.

Satisfied, I turn back to the oncoming zombies and try not to laugh as an idea strikes me. I open my music and scroll through until I find the YMCA song. Nobody can resist that.

I blast it, and the zombies turn, confused at first. Then they start running towards us, dead eyes flashing with hunger.

Okay, wrong tactic.

I scroll through my music again to the one Michael Jackson song I have. The zombies halt, some of them tripping and knocking into the one in front of them, both dropping like dominoes. They start bobbing their heads to the beat.

"What the hell..." Shaniya murmurs under her breath.

And when the chorus comes on, the entire group begins the "Thriller" dance as though they had been practicing the choreography together for ages. A couple of them have mangled arms that flop around as they turn. Others drag their crooked legs around behind them.

When the group stumbles in one direction, we slink away in the opposite, and the zombies quickly turn around and follow the song like a flock of expectant seagulls after a kid with french fries at an amusement park.

"What do we do when the song ends?" I ask, watching the countdown from fifty-nine seconds.

"Run like a bat out of hell."

"You guys start going. I'll keep them distracted," I say.

None of them argue. They turn much too quickly and creep away. I frown. I thought at least Mikah liked me...and Angel had some respect for me.

Ah, well. Can't have everything, I suppose. I set my phone on the ground and wield the bag handle like a warrior, taking advantage of the distraction. A quick glance down tells me that the song only has thirty-one seconds left.

I instantly regret my choice in weapon--it feels horrifically wrong to hold. I try flipping it around so that I hold the unconnected end, but I decide it's better to stab the zombies with this end than to hit them with the cushioned handle. But there's more control with the unconnected end... I stick with that end and lunge into action, knocking the nearest one to the ground in an instant. I push down on its neck with the handle until the throat is crushed. I was hoping the head would come off entirely, but this is enough to incapacitate it for the most part. I stomp on it's non-damaged kneecap, making any thought of getting up impossible for the time being.

I turn to the rest of the group. So focused on the song, none of them noticed when one of their own was separated and currently lay writhing and groaning on the broken pavement.

"I guess you could say...another one bites the dust." The song ends and another comes up--coincidentally, it's the one I just used for a pun.

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A/N
I thoroughly hope you are enjoying OZA! Drop a comment when you see something you like and press that star button to help Piper on her journey to finding an orthodontist! (Or at least to keep knocking the guts out of zombies...)

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Thanks for reading! I'll update soon!

~KnightWatch