-11-

“You Just Need To Use That Dull Brain Of Yours, Xander.”

Xapper sat up, his eyes were heavy and his head throbbing. He found himself back in the keep and he was on a pink japanese futon. Broadway was over him and she forced him back down.

“Careful there, Sarge,” said Broadway. “You hit your head pretty hard. Surprise you’re awake so soon after a concussion like that.”

“How long have I been out?” asked Xapper.

“Only for one night,” said Broadway as she wrung out a wet cloth. She then placed the cloth on Xapper’s forehead. “Thankfully, whatever supernatural thing is happening to you it made your head healed fast. How are you feeling?”

“Like a complete ass,” said Xapper with regretful eyes. He then took Broadway by the hand. “Look, I’m sorry for all that crap I said to you. I was angry and not thinking clearly.”

“The shitty thing is you weren’t wrong,” said Broadway as she flashed a smile. “If Autumn stayed in Buffalo, she wouldn’t have gotten turned into a zombie. I told her not to come to Redmoose. But she wanted to see me because . . . because she loved me too much to stay away.”

“None of what happened was your fault,” said Xapper as he tried to sit up again. “Now, let me do what I gotta do. I don’t like it but I’ll end her suffering for you.”

“You’re too late,” said Broadway as she forced him back down onto the futon. “That little girl used her pet monster to melt Autumn. She’s gone and she doesn’t suffer anymore.”

Xapper stared wide eyed at Broadway. “Defiant did that?”

“Yeah and she asked me to look after you,” said Broadway.

“Where is she now?” asked Xapper.

“Out hunting with her pet monster,” said Broaday. “What kind of name is Plasmee, anyway?”

“I don’t ask questions anymore,” said Xapper. “The more I learn about that girl’s home life, the more I want to beat her parents to a pulp.”

There then came a loud rumbling. Xapper held his stomach and looked at Broadway. She rolled her eyes as she stood and then walked over to a corner.

“Defiant got this for you,” said Broadway. “She told me all about your guys’ diet. And she caught this for you, when you finally woke up. It was a pain for her to catch too. Apparently these things are skittish even as zombies.”

Broadway brought Xapper a zombie rabbit impaled on a skewer. It squirmed and kicked feebly. It could not make a sound because the end of the skewer escaped through the mouth. Xapper ate his bunny breakfast and when he finished, he lay back on the futon.

“So, you know a transgirl then?” asked Broadway. “The way you acted before, I’m guessing there is a transgirl in your life and you two are close, right?”

Xapper nodded and said, “Yeah. My daughter, Valiant.”

“Interesting name,” said Broadway. “And I think I heard it before.”

“Her aunt suggested it,” said Xapper. “Her Aunt Poppy is like a mother to Valiant.”

“Autumn chose her name because she liked fall,” said Broadway as she smiled sadly and remaniced. “Her transition was like the changing of the leaves during autumn.”

Xapper nodded. He was supportive of his daughter but knew little about her transition. He stayed ignorant of things because deep down, he knew he would never understand. Through Broadway and her relationship with Autumn, Xapper saw a window into a different world that his daughter was a part of.

“So, I’d ask you about you and your late girlfriend but maybe some other time,” said Xapper. “We gotta stop this whole zombie thing before it spreads.”

“It would be nice to know how far out from Redmoose the zombie thing has spread,” said Broadway. “And it would be super awesome if we could get in touch with the outside world.”

Xapper looked around at the wires and small electronics scattered around the keep.

“You seem to know a thing or two about tech stuff,” said Xapper. “If I went back to Fort Blackwood and got you a radio, could you get it to work?”

Xapper was kicking himself for not grabbing any batteries from the base’s storage. But he was a little occupied with the endless undead hordes coming after him. Things like food, gas, clothing, and TP at the time took priority.

Broadway thought for a moment and shook her head. “No good, no radio is working, not even ones from a car. I tried to get an old boombox from the thrift store to work but all I got was static. I bet some of your military radios were just static too, right?”

“Yeah. What could be causing that?” asked Xapper.

“My guess is Wilma did some dark magic BS to mess with radio waves and isolate all of Redmoose,” said Broadway. “Then the zombies could have free reign without anyone from the outside getting in the way.”

“What exactly went down in town?” asked Xapper. “A lot of people become zombies in a short amount of time.”

Broadway then smiled bitterly. “My parents were having one of their political rails when the dead from the graveyard came to life and charged into town. Everyone was at the center of town for the railing and the zombies flanked the crowd.”

Xapper shifted his eyes in deep thought and confusion. “Wait? The zombies used tactics to get people?”

“I assumed at the time Wilma was controlling them,” said Broadway. She then shrugged. “But after I killed her, the zombies kept going. And everyone who died during the first attack just became more zombies. And like from the movies, the whole zombie thing just snowballs.”

“What about your folks?” asked Xapper awkwardly. “What happened to them?”

“Oh, they were among the first people to get completely eaten,” said Broadway. “Seriously, the zombies ate every last bit before my parents could die.” She then scrunched her nose. “I hated them but they were still my family. And no one deserves to die like that. I cried for a while after losing them but . . . I’m more frustrated and angry that I couldn't save Autumn.”

“Wilma must have been a real piece of work to put you through all of that,” said Xapper. “And did she have some grudge against Redmoose? Why turn the whole town into a freaking hell?”

“I tried to get some answers out of her but she just kept laughing and taunting me,” said Broadway with a sneer. “She would go on and on about how perfect my life was and mock Autumn’s gender to really piss me off. I kicked her all over town like a soccer ball and she just would not shut up. Bitch.”

Xapper nodded but then paused when he realized a key element in Broadway’s rant.

“You kicked her all over town?” asked Xapper. “Like a soccer ball?”

Broadway then said, “Well it was just her head. This was after I put Autumn in the basement and fed Wilma’s body to her and—”

“You cut off Wilma’s head and she became a zombie,” said Xapper. “Who could still talk?”

Broadway paused then an epiphany hit her. “Holy shit! Now that you’ve mentioned it, Wilma’s zombified head is the only time I hear a zombie speak actual words.”

“And they weren’t just grunts and groans, right?” asked Xapper. Broadway nodded. “See, my lieutenant back on base was turned into a zombie and he spoke. But it was only a few words. And I heard no other zombie speak even a single word since then.”

“Yeah, Wilma’s head just would not shut up,” said Broadway. “Which was impressive since she had no throat or lungs.”

“I wonder what it means?” asked Xapper as he got off the pink futon. “Like, maybe because the lieutenant was the commanding officer and he became some kind of commanding zombie?”

“I think you’re reading way too much into it,” said Broadway. “Maybe some zombies can just talk?”

“Mommy and daddy still could say words to each other when they were zombies.”

Little Defiant had returned with a very fat Plasmee sleeping in her arms. Broadway and Xapper approached her and they started asking the girl questions at the same time. Plasmee then woke up and hissed at them and they backed away to avoid her acidic spit.

“Wow Plasmee, I thought I was a real beast when someone woke me from a nap,” said Broadway.

“Sorry Plasmee, go on and rest, we'll keep it down,” said Xapper. Plasmee then nodded and went back to sleep. “LD? What did your parents say when they became zombies? Could they speak only a few words or full sentences?”

“Only a few words like ‘bitch’ and ‘bastard’ and other naughty words like that,” said Little Defiant.

“I’ll bet you it was the dark magic from that gross ancient book,” said Broadway. “Maybe dark magic helps people keep some of their identity when they are turned into zombies.”

“How do you figure?” asked Xapper.

“Well, magic is weird like that, right?” said Broadway. “Magic has rules but it's out of our understanding to fully . . . understand, right?”

Xapper nodded but was still very confused. Little Defiant nodded too while petting Plasmee.

Broadway rolled her eyes and said, “Okay, Wilma was exposed to a crap ton of dark magic, so maybe the magic kept her identity intact after I sliced her head off.”

“You never did tell us how you did that,” pointed out Xapper.

“That’s not important,” said Broadway. Xapper stared at her with a raised eyebrow. “I used an axe and it wasn’t in one stroke. Anyway, Defiant’s parents used that book to make Plasmee and have the two of them linked together. So, they were exposed to dark magic too.”

“How did they get their hands on that book, anyway?” asked Xapper.

Broadway shrugged and said, “Wilma was a sucker for people in uniforms. Defiant’s father was a coast guard years ago and Wilma openly bragged about—” Broadway then looked at Little Defiant and then she whispered in Xapper’s ear. “She bragged about screwing a guy who was dishonorably discharged from the military. And Defiant’s father was dishonorably discharged.”

Xapper was having a hard time following Broadway until she whispered that key detail.

“Was it only one guy who was dishonorably discharged she was fooling around with? Or was she also screwing with active duty men too?” asked Xapper.

“She had a uniform fetish. Military, cops, firefighters, you name it,” said Broadway. “Didn’t matter, Wilma would jump on them. Even if they were active or discharged, as long as they still had the uniform and put it on for her, she was game. Hell, I’m surprised she didn’t hit on—no, actually, you’re a bit crusty and old for her tastes.”

“Lucky me. But could that dark magic stuff do simple things?” asked Xapper. “Like removing warts from people’s faces?”

Broadway shrugged and said, “I have no idea but maybe? It’s magic. Magic could do almost anything. I mean, if it can make zombies, and pet monsters, and turn a regular dude into a rotten-flesh-eating ghoul, then it really can do anything, right?”

Xapper sneered and said, “Damnit. Lieutenant Pyre had warts on his face and then . . . magically, they were gone a few weeks back. Son of a bitch! I thought he got them lasered off or something. But he was screwing around with a real witch.”

“Yeah, Wilma kept talking about causing anarchy and chaos and she had some of the military guys from the base under her thumb,” said Broadway. “She liked to talk.”

“That would explain how Xeak ended up in my hut,” said Xapper as he became more agitated. “Pyre . . . crap on a cracker, he was outside my hut turned into a zombie. And he was there because he was the one who came into my hut before the zombies attacked. And he was the one who put that little asshole Xeak on my dresser. And . . . DAMNIT!”

“Yeah, that is so messed up,” said Broadway. “Wilma was beyond psychiatric help.”

“Yeah, but why did she make me a zombie eater when she was trying to use zombies to cause chaos?” asked Xapper. “Seems counterproductive.”

Broadway looked away from him and said, “Well . . . I am the one who performed the curse on you and I did it wrong. Wilma probably thought the spell just didn’t do anything and had that lieutenant guy put the doll in your hut just to mess with you.”

“You know, we keep on talking in circles and not getting anywhere,” said Xapper. “But the person who has the answers is buried in the woods. Do you remember where you buried her?”

Broadway crossed her arms and glared hotly at Xapper. “Seriously? You want to dig up the bitch that caused all of this shit to happen? She refused to answer my questions and like hell is she going to answer yours.”

Xapper then saw his drill sergeant hat by the futon. He retrieved it and placed it back on top of his head. He straightened his hat then nodded confidently at Broadway.

“What if I talked with her, while in my uniform?” asked Xapper.

Broadway rolled her eyes and said, “I already told you, Wilma has an age limit and you are well past that.”

“I was but I used the special rocks and now I look and feel a whole lot younger,” said Xapper.

“Are you sure about that?” asked Broadway as she picked up a mirror.

Xapper saw himself in the mirror. While back on base, he used the obsidian to grant wishes and make himself look younger and his body stronger and better. But in the mirror he saw his old self, looking very haggard, unshaven, and an absolute mess.

His uniform was intact but it was covered in gore and the mended tears were noticeable. Xapper heard cruel laughter in his head. Xeak was placed next to his rucksack and the demonic doll’s voice echoed.

“Nar-Goathgeir can make or break you, Xander. Hehehehehe!”

Xapper marched over to Xeak and picked it up. “Damn you, yarn boy. So all that magic crap with the rocks was an illusion after all?”

“It was all as real as you wanted it to be, Xander,” said Xeak. “But our Goddess is getting impatient. You are so close to finding that little piece you're looking for.”

“What little piece?” asked Xapper.

“The little piece of the god that caused the undead to rise,” explained Xeak. “You are so close. You just need to use that dull brain of yours, Xander. Hehehehe.”

Xapper was beyond confused and his patience was reaching its limit. But he stopped himself from doing anything to the doll. Whatever happened to the doll, happened to him in return.

“I hate magic,” grumbled Xapper. “Especially stupid magic that makes dolls talk.”

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense, Sarge,” said Broadway. “What did your evil doll companion say?”

“He ain’t no companion of mine,” said Xapper as he reluctantly attached Xeak back onto his pants. Xapper then told Broadway what Xeak said.

She then asked, “So, a piece of some monster god caused the whole zombie thing, right?”

“Yeah and we’re close to finding it,” said Xapper. “But Xeak ain’t helping us. But we don’t need him because we got at least one lead . . . which you buried”

Broadway groaned in annoyance and asked, “Ugh, Sarge! Are we really going to dig up Wilma?”

“We’re out of options, Broadway,” said Xapper. “Unless you got any other ideas where she could have put a piece of a god?”

Broadway shook her head and said, “No, not one. I checked her body and found nothing special. At least, nothing that looked magical.”

“How would you know what is and isn’t magical?” asked Xapper.

“Well, magic has this distinct kind of aura or feeling,” said Broadway vaguely. “I’ve experienced it already so I can just tell. It’s hard to explain.”

“Is it like when you know a zombie is near and your tummy rumbles?” asked Little Defiant.

“I guess,” said Broadway as she shrugged with confusion and concern.

Little Defiant sat by Xapper’s rucksack and stroked Plasmee as her monster companion slept in her lap. Xapper was so busy chatting with Broadway he forgot Defiant was there with them.

“What do you think, LD?” asked Xapper. “Should we go ask the bad person who caused all of this? Or leave her in the dirt?”

“I vote to leave her in the dirt,” said Broadway. “I spent a lot of time digging and filling that hole.”

“Plasmee needs to rest a little bit longer,” said Little Defiant. “But we should ask the bad person. And if she doesn’t answer us, Plasmee can just melt her.”

“I like that plan,” said Xapper with a smile. “How about you, Broadway?”

“I really don’t want to dig her up,” groaned Broadway. She then signed. “But it looks like I’m out-voted. Fine! We’ll dig her up but if she just gives we sass, then we melt the bitch.”

To Be Continued . . .