Zapacolypse Read online

  Hank was listening in to the conversation, as his radio wasn’t working. “If they start making new spines, can you get me one so I can get out of this stupid chair?” Hank muttered, and there was clearly a hint of anger in his voice.

  A buzzer rang on Francis’s phone. She’d set an alarm because she didn’t want to be late for school. Quickly, she hopped up and started tying her shoes. “The bus will be here in ten minutes— shoes on, Jack.” She was quick with her shoelaces and already slipped her backpack on. Being orderly was important to her.

  Jack let out a scream of excitement, grabbing his backpack and dropping his toy soldier inside.

  “You can’t take that,” said Francis as she waggled a finger at him. “No toys at school.”

  Jack cocked his head at Francis with a sly grin. “Make me.” She lunged for him, and he dove out of the way.

  Hank wheeled towards the kids. “Hugs.” Both kids froze; they’d never skip a hug from their grandad. He held out his wobbling arms and both children hugged him. He smiled. “I’m off to the library. Wish me luck protecting our town’s teeth.” He grinned, pointing at his teeth.

  Karen stood beside Hank. “I’ll be at the library too. I guess we’re going to ride together.” She rolled her eyes at her father-in-law. Hank waved his hand in a noncommittal yes.

  Karen and Hunter hugged the kids goodbye. The parents watched as their children climbed on the school bus. The bus rolled up and over the hill, vanishing into the horizon. Karen rested her head into Hunter’s chest, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “Why does this make me feel so sad?” she said, sniffling.

  Hunter looked at Karen; she was always too emotional. “He’ll be fine. He’s been dying to go to school,” Hunter said, wiping away the last tear rolling down his wife’s cheek. “You’ll be fine too.”

  Karen sniffed and nodded.

  “Why don’t you stay at home today?” Hank chirped up. Karen knew exactly why Hank was saying that.

  She scowled at Hank’s grin, “I’m going to shout extra loud today just for you.” She wiped her eyes and finally smiled.

  “Looks like it’s time for me to leave you two bickering kids.” Hunter ducked out of the way before Karen could give him a teasing slap, then quickly leaned back in and kissed her lips hungrily. “I’ll be at the station if you need me,” he added. She blushed as she always did when he kissed her unexpectedly hard.

  He climbed into his patrol car and turned the key, completely forgetting the tiny blinking light on his phone reminding him of the message.

  The message that would have prevented their separation.

  Hunter popped into the sheriff’s station and grabbed the doughnut from the table. Before he could take a bite, his receptionist Delilah slapped it out of his hand.

  Delilah shook her head. “I’ll tell Karen,” she said as she smirked. Delilah’s hair was done up way too big, like she used a full can of hairspray every morning, and she wore fake eyelashes that extended from her face about a mile. Her clothes were just as flashy as her make-up. Today’s uniform was peacock feathers printed on a baggy dress that made her look at least ten pounds heavier than she really was.

  Hunter raised his eyebrow. “No you won’t.” He tried to reach for the doughnut again, but Delilah stuffed it in her own mouth before he could get it.

  Delilah’s mouth was bulging with the doughnut. “And I licked the rest of them,” she replied, nearly dropping bits of donut out of her mouth.

  He snorted with amusement at her antics, but then sighed. “Fine, keep them,” Hunter told Delilah.

  Hunter was getting tired of the diet that he never agreed to. He had recently been diagnosed with high blood pressure. The doctor said he should lose weight to bring his blood pressure down. But why were Karen and Delilah acting like he was morbidly obese? He was only 225lbs and 6 feet tall. It was not like they needed a crane to get him out of the building. Sure, he could lose thirty pounds. But he didn’t need his wife and secretary conspiring against him.

  He stepped into his office and sat in his chair, rifling through his messages. “Hey, Delilah? Only two messages?” Hunter asked. Both messages were entirely forgettable. The first mentioned a lost cat, and the second was a reminder to send the weekly crime report to the newspaper.

  “Oh!” said Delilah, her clunky bright red heels smacking across the floor as she walked over. “I forgot to tell you, the phone has been acting weird. Even the television isn’t working right. There have been a bunch of calls about the telephones. I didn’t write most of those down. I guess a tower is down or something.” Delilah was flushed. She often talked with her hands, and today her fingernails were covered in rhinestones.

  Hunter looked at her with wonder. “What do you mean weird?” he asked, thinking about the radio station being static earlier today. He thought his radio was on the fritz, but now was wondering if telecommunications were on the fritz. Criminy, that’d be annoying.

  Delilah carried on. “Well, like one of the early news shows wasn’t aired. The cameras turned on and the entire broadcast was just an empty desk. Then Mr. Rogers rolled on right after, so it seems to be working again.” Delilah clawed her giant rhinestone fingernails at her neck. She paused as soon as she realized Hunter was staring. “I think I got a rash.”

  Hunter shook his head, not interested in Delilah’s rash. “What’s going on with the phones?” He felt quite ill at ease. Why would the news broadcast be an empty table? Unless someone sat on the controls, there should’ve been people there. And… If someone had sat on the controls, they would’ve figured it out. They wouldn’t have waited an hour. Hunter kept his thoughts to himself. He didn’t need a hysterical Delilah.

  “Well…” said Delilah, glancing nervously at her desk and then back at Hunter. “People have been saying it’s hard to get through, and when I tried to call you earlier, the phone line was dead. I thought maybe there was a loose connection in the office, but then… That’s just the thing. People were calling me saying that they thought they had something wrong with their telephones. And McGregor, you know, with the garden issue?”

  Hunter laughed. “I’m not going to investigate stolen gnomes again. The same thing happened last year and his wife had moved them into a shed, as she was sick of looking at them. He’s got a marital issue, not a thief issue.” He was now sitting upright at his desk, his hands clasped together as he was trying to puzzle out what could be wrong with the phones, the television, and radio.

  “Well, he called twice now and said that he tried to call the telephone company. He said the telephone company didn’t answer. Then he told me the television station didn’t answer. Then he told me that the radio station didn’t answer.” Delilah clawed nervously at her neck again, the rhinestones on the ends of her fingers sparkling. “Something is going on. I don’t know what to tell anyone,” she told him, worried.

  Hunter shook his head. “Nothing is going on. They were able to call the station, weren’t they?” Then he paused. “Tell them I, the sheriff, say nothing is going on. And as soon as I know anything more, I will let everyone know. But not to worry. If there was a national emergency… it would have broadcast.” He grinned. The small town was always looking for something exciting to happen and this must be what today’s adventure was all about.

  Delilah nodded and she started to clunk out of the room. She paused just before she shut the door. “What if the media is down? Would there still be a broadcast?” Hunter could feel the cold fear in the back of Delilah’s voice.

  Hunter thought for a moment. He wasn’t in the mood to put up with all of this silliness. Sounds like work for the deputy, he thought. “Can you call John and ask him to come in today?” Hunter asked Delilah, ignoring her question. He definitely needed his deputy today. This was not going to be a regular day.

  “Will do,” Delilah said, and with that, she left Hunter’s office. As soon as the door clicked shut, he planned to call the television station, the telephone company, and then the radio station. B
ut the line was dead—he couldn’t call anyone.

  Hunter laughed; he’d spent his whole life in this little town and now they were rubbing off on him. “No sense in worrying.” It was going to be John’s problem when he arrived. So Hunter propped his heels up on his desk, pulled his hat low, and took a well-earned nap.

  Delilah rapped on Hunter’s door. He immediately tried to wipe the drool from his face and hide the fact that he had been falling asleep. He glanced at the time; it was nearly eight forty-five. Why does Delilah have to wake me up from my morning nap? Hunter thought, annoyed.

  Delilah’s face was all red, and her hands were fluttering in front of her. The glittery nails were hard to look away from, sparkling as she fluttered. “Sheriff. Sheriff.” She didn’t wait for him to reply. “Sheriff.” It was like her mouth wouldn’t stop sheriff-ing, like a nervous tic had taken over.

  Hunter looked at Delilah, confused. “Spit it out, Delilah!” He straightened his hat. He quickly rubbed his eyes, trying to hide the sleep.

  “Farmer Redd’s wife, Linda is on the phone,” said Delilah. But her hands were still flapping nervously in front of her, like a sparkly alarm. It was like she couldn’t quite get her brain to behave.

  “So?” said the sheriff. He was getting tired of Delilah and all her frantic antics.

  Over the years, Hunter had witnessed her getting easily frightened by the smallest of things. Delilah was one of the worst offenders. Working in a sheriff’s office really wasn’t the best place for her, but she was part of the furniture, so she wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. One time, Delilah was screaming bloody murder, and it turned out a daddy long legs spider crawled across her foot. Not even her skin, just her shoe.

  “Listen! Redd attacked his wife,” Delilah replied firmly, which took Hunter by surprise. “She’s in a closet, she’s called, and I could hear him clawing at the door. She said… she…” Delilah was gasping, and her hand started clawing at her rash on her chest again.

  Hunter got to his feet. “Spit it out.” A alarm was ringing in his head. This would be the first assault his town had seen in a while. “He attacked her?” he said firmly with his hands squeezing together.

  Delilah nodded. “She said he’s trying to eat her.” Her hand shivered as she pointed at the phone. There was a blinking light. “She’s on line one.” Delilah fluttered out of the room, still clawing.

  Hunter tried to process what she had just said as he quickly picked up the phone. “Hello, this is Sheriff Hunter. Linda, are you there?”

  “I think… I think that …” Linda said, gasping for air because she’d been crying so hard. There were long gasps between her words. He could hear a sliding, thumping noise in the background.

  What the juniper is going on? thought Hunter. “Calm down, ma’am,” he told her nervously. He had never heard someone so afraid. “Talk me through what happened and where you are.” He spoke in a slow, calming tone, hoping it would help her.

  Linda explained what had happened. “I was hanging the laundry. I remember I was hanging the sheets. Outside on the clothesline. I left them out there. I didn’t even finish.” The fear in her voice was making her shiver. He could feel the odd sound of the phone rattling against her face as her hands were shaking. “Eric walked up.”

  “Your neighbor Eric?” Hunter interrupted quickly. He heard a loud thump and she let out a tiny shriek.

  “Yes. He was walking and really quiet. But then I saw him take a bite of…” She started hiccupping and sobbing in big long ragged breaths. “Of Redd. On his face. Just started biting him. You know? You know?” She was stuttering on her words, gasping again. “Redd and him, they wrestled. But then Redd had blood all over his face. Eric didn’t get up. But Redd, he started coming for me. And he would’ve bit me, he would’ve got me. Except the dog jumped between us. And the dog was … and just, and….” Her hiccupping sobs were interrupting so often Hunter thought she might pass out from the lack of air.

  Hunter tried to understand Linda’s rambling. “Where is Redd right now?” He used a commanding voice, but her fear was startling to rattle him.

  Hunter could hear the gasping for air as Linda tried to calm herself. “He broke through the front door,” said Linda. “I’m in the bedroom, in the closet. He has not broken into the bedroom yet, but he will… He will.”

  Hunter imagined Linda hiding in the closet, sobbing. He hoped the fear in her words wouldn’t come true.

  He needed to get to her quickly before her husband did. “Stay quiet. I’m coming for you,” Hunter said quickly.

  Hunter didn’t hear a response from Linda. Instead, he heard slapping in the background, the thumps growing ominous.

  Fart knocker! I should be there! he thought. “I’m coming!” He slammed the phone down, grabbing his holster. “Is John in?” he said in a hurry to Delilah.

  Delilah nodded, her hands shaking, and she pointed at the deputy’s office. He was already strapped with his own gun and on his feet. “Delilah said there is a spousal abuse situation?”

  “Let’s go.” Hunter turned to Delilah. “Call if you have any other problems…” He paused, as she looked zoned out. “You’re drooling… take care of that.” Not two seconds later, sirens were screaming as they whirred down the street. Every head that saw them turned and stared and wondered. Those sirens had almost never been used before.

  Sheriff Hunter and Deputy John were speeding down the road to Redd and Linda’s farm, a trail of dust flying up behind them. Hunter hoped that they’d get there before Redd could harm Linda. The road was rough and had many potholes. The cop car shuddered and bounced down it. Thankfully, since he knew everyone, he knew where Linda lived. She was only two farms past the guy who kept getting lawn gnomes stolen. This was the kind of stuff he was used to dealing with, not actual attacks. He tried to prepare himself for the scene ahead.

  Hunter turned to John. “Did Delilah explain to you what’s going on?” he asked.

  John nodded. “Yes.” He didn’t press for more information.

  Hunter pressed the gas, but his timing was off. They slammed into a particularly large pothole, and the siren suddenly flipped off. Hunter could feel the cold grip of fear starting to grate at his neck. “Hey, John?” Hunter said, reaching forward and clicking the sirens back on.

  John chewed down on his bottom lip. “Yeah?” he said. There was a tremor in his voice.

  Hunter knew that this was the first time John had been on a real call. He’d broken up a few fights in the local bar, threw people in cells to sleep it off, that sort of stuff. Not an actual domestic dispute, certainly not one with face biting.

  Hunter glanced at the deputy and then back at the road. “Your gun is loaded, right?” he asked. The radio had a slow hiss of static, so he reached over and clicked it off. Radios, TVs, and phones. Is it aliens? Hunter wondered, then he glanced up to the sky. Bad timing; he hit another pothole and the car bounced hard. Hunter was trying to miss them, but it was a bit of a minefield at times.

  John swallowed, then carefully pulled out his revolver and opened up the chamber. It was loaded; it was always loaded. He was surprised the bullets weren’t dusty. “Yes, sir.” He carefully stuffed it back in his holster and tried to remember his training. He’d been a deputy for six months and was still a new recruit. There had been no reason to draw his weapon in all that time.

  Hunter nodded. “Okay, you know what we’re getting into. Something… different,” he said nervously. Then he took a deep breath, realizing that his nerves were making the deputy even more nervous. “Hey, what do you call a stolen yam?” Hunter grinned slowly.

  John rolled his eyes. “I know you’re trying to loosen us up a little…”

  But Hunter jumped in with the punch line. “A hot potato.” Hunter laughed.

  John shook his head. “I hate your dad jokes.” But it did help him calm down. The tension in the car was starting to relax a little.

  Just then, Hunter’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen. It was Karen,
but he decided to ignore. He didn’t have time to talk to her right now.

  Darn tootin’, I forgot to listen to that message… Hunter thought. He should’ve done that instead of taking the nap. Ah well, he had his hands full now. It would have to wait. He could hear about the fluoride protest from his wife and whatever that message wanted a little later today. It was strange to think of protesting fluoride in a time like this. He screeched into the driveway and quickly popped out of the car. He drew his gun, as did John.

  Eric’s body wasn’t lying in the field where Redd’s wife had told him it was. Or at least, he didn’t see it. He didn’t have time for more than a glance. But he did see a large pool of blood soaking into the dirt. That made him more nervous. He specifically didn’t point it out to John, since he didn’t need his deputy even more spooked. They didn’t have time to investigate because they could hear Redd making a racket inside his house.

  As they started walking to the house, they saw Eric with blood pouring down his body. He was walking towards them silently, shuffling his feet in an ominous way. He seemed to sniff the air and then turn to look at him. The torn overalls flapped slightly as he changed direction and walked towards them at a slightly faster pace.

  What the son of a biscuit! thought Hunter. “Stop. Hands in the air,” he ordered, his voice booming with authority.

  “It’s the sheriff. Eric, stop,” John added, but he sounded scared as a mouse.

  Eric kept coming at them. He never quite looked at them, just shuffled faster in their direction. It was creepy how silent he was, his teeth clicking as his mouth opened and shut slowly. John started to nervously tap on Hunter’s arm. He too had his gun drawn and aimed at Eric, and was pushing Hunter with his elbow.

  “Knock it off; you’ll jerk-water my aim,” hissed Hunter. The new kid might pee himself before it’s all over, Hunter thought, trying to steady his shot.