Attack of the Fairytale Zombies! (14 page)

“Yes, Barth?” She batted her eyelashes while biting her lower lip.

The angry roar that shook the earth beneath Barth’s boots totally ruined the romantic tension of the moment. Of course. Barth was beginning to wonder if he’d ever get a moment’s peace in this novel.

Heather gasped and pulled away.

Barth turned to the dazed and confused fairytale creatures wandering the parking lot and wildly waved his arms. “Everybody run!” He pointed to the giant stone building. “Into the Medieval Mart!”

Creatures shrieked and scrambled through the store’s entrance, plowing down the talking bear greeter in the blue vest.

Barth turned back toward Heather and leveled a serious look. “You should go inside, too.” He smiled weakly while clasping her hand in his own. “I don’t want to risk your safety again, Heather.”

Resolution settled in the firm line of her mouth. “I’m staying with you.”

Wizard and Wolf stood beside them. “We’re staying, too,” they said.

Barth’s mouth suddenly felt parched as he was overcome with emotion from this magical friendship moment. At the beginning of the book, he was a loser with only one friend, but now he had this amazing circle of buddies who would risk their lives for him. Whether he had to save the planet from an evil wizard by disposing of a magical ring in a pit of hell, or just defeat a fire-breathing, brain-eating dragon by not killing him, Barth knew he could count on his loyal friends.

“A-are you sure?” he stammered, hardly believing his good fortune.

The wolf looked at him with glazed eyes. “I know how special your friend is to you. It’s a beautiful thing, dude. I want to help save the love.”

Barth arched a brow. “Exactly how stoned are you, Wolf?”

“Huh?” Wolf’s jaw went slack. “What were we talking about again?”

“Wolf.” Barth reached over and patted the stoned canine on the back. “You need to go inside. I hear they’re giving away crates of chocolate marshmallow puffs.”

A toothy grin spread across Wolf’s face. “Righteous, dude!” He turned and sprinted into the Medieval Mart.

Wizard stepped forward, holding his magical staff in one hand while tilting his chin in a regal, wizard-like manner. “Your family has served me for the past ten generations. It’s time I repaid the favor.” He pounded his staff on the ground as magical sparks flew from the gnarled wood. “Also, I’m real proud of you for almost saving the kingdom, Barth.”

Again, Barth’s chest swelled with gratitude. Though Wolf was too stoned to be part of his magical friendship circle, at least he had Heather and Wizard. “Thanks, Wizard. I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt.”

“I know, I know.” The old man held out a staying hand. “You want me to flee for safety if things get ugly. Don’t worry. I was planning on it.”

“Actually.” Barth’s chest deflated just a little. “I was going to ask you to use your magic to save me, but if you want to retreat to safety, that’s okay I guess.”

“Great.” Wizard bent over and used his staff to scratch his ass. “Best of luck then.”

Barth turned from the wizard as apprehension twisted a knot in his gut. He spun around as a gentle hand squeezed his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Barth.” Heather looked up at him with smiling eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Heather, I—“

She reached out and placed a finger over his lips.

Though Barth was totally turned on by her brazen touch, he also hoped she’d washed her hands after she’d changed her last tampon.

“I’m not leaving you, and that’s final,” she said in a tone that left no argument. Then she playfully batted her lashes while toying with the lace on her bodice. “I never got to thank you for saving me back at Douchebagga’s castle.”

“It was the least I could do after the way I treated you.” He reached out and cupped her hand in his own, relishing the warmth of her delicate fingers, but again, hoping she’d washed her hands or at least used sanitizer after her last trip to the bathroom. “Heather, I really am sorry for thinking you were an evil witch. I was wrong. I realize now that you are only evil five-to-seven days each month.”

“Apology accepted.” She leaned closer and wrapped an arm around his neck. “And you know what?” she breathed into his ear.

“What?” Barth nearly fell off balance as her breath warmed his skin. He shifted his legs, willing his raging sexual hormones to calm down. For a moment, he understood that Snurf’s urge to hump Heather’s leg.

She placed a few delicate kisses on his neck before whispering. “I think I will reward you with make-up sex.”

“Make-up sex is the best kind!” he squealed, perhaps a little too loudly.

She pulled back and leveled a stern expression at him. “Yeah, but you’ll have to wait five-to-seven more days.”

“That’s okay.” He shrugged, hardly believing his good luck. “You’re worth the wait.” He only hoped he didn’t get eaten by Drag before then.

Just then, another roar rent the air, nearly shattering Barth’s eardrums.

“Here comes Drag!” Heather screamed.

When the giant winged shadow cast a gloom over the parking lot, Barth lost the slightest amount of control over his bladder. Thankfully, he’d been sweating from the day’s exertion, so he hoped nobody would notice the extra moisture pooling around his crotch.

Barth unsheathed his sword just as the zombie dragon landed with jarring force in front of him. Though he had no intention of killing his best friend, he’d be a fool not to be prepared. After all, he really wanted that makeup sex.

“Wait, Barth, let me.” Wizard pushed past him and stood before the snarling, moaning, rabid dragon. “You shall not PASS!” He bellowed, slamming his magical staff against the cobblestone beneath his feet. Sparks flew from the staff in an arc, dispensing a magnificent display of magic. A sudden breeze whipped Wizard’s hair and robes into a frenzy as he held his ground.

Drag fixed Wizard with a vacant, yet hungry, expression and roared. Green and red spittle flew from the beast’s mighty jowls, coating the wizard in the zombie ooze.

Barth cringed as he could only guess how many kinds of bacteria were in that slime.

Wizard turned to him with a sullen expression as he wiped goo off his beard. “Well, I’ve done all I can do.” He scampered toward the Medieval Mart.

Barth waved Heather away. “Get back!” He scooped a tankard of ale off the ground and held it out. “Here dragon, are you thirsty?”

The dragon lunged forward and nearly snapped off Barth’s head. Luckily, Barth jumped away just in time, nearly tripping over his sword as he spilled ale down the front of his shirt.

“He’s doesn’t want the ale,” Heather called down to Barth.

He looked up to see she was riding Douchebagga’s broom.

“I can tell,” he said wryly as he took her outstretched hand and climbed behind her.

They flew off, just as Drag lunged again.

“Brrrrraiiinsss,” the dragon moaned as he jumped into the air and chased them.

Barth peeled off his wet shirt while sucking in his gut, just in case Heather turned around and noticed his six pack actually looked more like a pony keg. “I need you to fly me close to his mouth,” he yelled over the wind that was pelting his face.

“Are you crazy?” she cried as she shifted the broom into fifth gear while the hungry dragon snapped behind them.

“Heather,” Barth cried as he clutched his wet shirt to his chest. “He’s my best friend. Please.”

A litany of swear words erupted from Heather’s pert mouth as she spun the broom around and flipped over Drag’s backside, just narrowly missing the snap of his massive jowls.

Everything moved in slow motion, kinda like those really cheesy action movies where some dude dodges hundreds of bullets by bending backwards. Barth expelled a breath of relief. This slow motion mode really made it much easier for him to toss his wet shirt into Drag’s open mouth.

As soon as Drag swallowed the shirt, things sped back up to real time. Heather and Barth kept spiraling along Drag’s backside until they were struck by his massive tail.

They screamed as the broom was cracked in half and they went plummeting through the air. Barth was fairly certain that he’d die this time. After all, considering all the shit he’d been through so far in this book, it was amazing he’d lived this long.

Well, even though he and Heather never got to have that makeup sex, he was still really happy they’d at least get to die together. As they continued to plummet, and as Heather screamed beside him, he reached out to clasp her hand in his when suddenly they were both snatched mid-air by huge talons.

Barth looked up to see his best friend scowling down at him.

“What happened to me? Would you look at my nail polish? It’s ruined!”

“Drag!” Barth beamed. “You’re okay!”

Drag set them down in the Medieval Mart parking lot before landing beside them with a thud.

“Where’s my gown?” he screeched. “Why am I naked?”

Barth was too choked up to answer as he raced up his friend’s side and hugged his neck. “I’m just so happy you’re okay.”

“Thanks for catching us, Drag.” Barth looked down to see Heather patting Drag on the chest. “I’m pretty sure Douchebagga’s got some extra tubs of nail polish back at her castle.”

“Cackle cackle! I do have nail polish, and a brand new dragon wardrobe.”

They all turned to see a voluptuous young woman who surprisingly looked just like Kim Khardashian, hovering next to them on a broom.

“Douchebagga?” Drag arched a brow. “Is that you?”

“Yes, Drag.” She batted lush eyelashes while protruding her generous bosom. “It’s me.”

“You look incredible!” Drag gushed.

She bit her bottom lip while caressing her smooth curves with one hand. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused. Can you forgive me?”

“Don’t do it, Drag,” Barth warned. “That’s still Douchebagga on the inside.”

“So.” Drag shrugged his massive shoulders. “If Kris Humphries can fuck an evil, selfish bitch, then I can, too. As long as she’s hot on the outside.”

“I think we could all use a break after this,” Heather said. “What you say we go to the pub? Drinks are on me.”

“This isn’t ale.” Barth frowned as he grasped the shot glass from Heather with the tips of his fingers.

“I thought we needed something stronger.” She tipped back her head and tossed the amber liquid down her throat.

Barth watched in amazement as Heather downed three more shots without even blinking. Then, he followed her as she grabbed a tray laden with several tall glasses of tequila and walked outside.

Drag was sitting on a thatched cottage, completely crushing the little structure with his weight. He was adorned in some pink frilly number with bows tucked behind each pointy ear. The best details of Drag’s ensemble were the two matching pink heels on his large hind legs.

Douchebagga Kim sat in his lap, stroking his massive thigh with her fingers.

When Drag leaned down and nuzzled Douchebagga’s face, Barth felt a little vomit rise in the back of his throat.

Heather held up the tray of drinks. “Here’s your dragon-sized tequila shots.”

“Ohhh, tequila!” Drag clapped his hands together and giggled.

“Drag,” Barth warned, “remember last time.”

“Would you lighten up?” Drag waved him off with a flick of his perfectly polished nails. “Besides, I need something to take this awful fishy taste out of my mouth.”

Barth looked down at the full shot of tequila he still held in his hand. “I hope I don’t regret this.” He tipped back his head and swallowed the liquid. Barth made a face as the fiery concoction burned his throat. “Yowza!”

It didn’t take long for his head to start spinning. He never handled his hard liquor well.

“Like my new shoes,” Drag slurred after he downed another glass. “I’ve got a whole closet-full of imitation Blahniks thanks to my sexy little witch.” He bent over Douchebagga and ran a talon down her curvaceous hip.

She moaned in response.

Now Barth really wanted to hurl.

“Douchebagga,” Heather said to her boss, “I didn’t know you had a Kim Khardashian potion.”

A slow smile spread across Douchebagga Kim’s beautiful face. “I’ve been trying to develop slutty juice potion for years and I finally figured out the secret ingredients.”