Attack of the Fairytale Zombies! (13 page)

“Uhhhh…grrrr,” Drag answered.

Barth cringed and turned his head at the acidic smell that radiated from Drag’s mouth. It was a far cry from the winter-fresh minty scent of Drag’s favorite gum. He craned his neck and tried to look down. The ground beneath them was moving so rapidly, Barth had no idea where he was. One thing he did know, wherever they landed, he’d have to figure out a means of escape without killing his best friend and without getting eaten.

“Think of all the times I spared your life, bought you lace and nail-polish.” Barth struggled against Drag’s talons to no avail.

Barth thought he would puke when Drag began flying around in rapid circles. When Drag released him, Barth screamed like a little girl, barely registering time to panic as he plummeted through the air. Actually, it was more like he plopped for a few feet, but plummeting through the air seemed so much more dramatic.

Thankfully, Barth had landed on something squishy. He pulled out his sword as he struggled to his feet while trying not to retch on the overwhelming smell of rotten fish guts.

Barth caught sight of Drag at the head of Nessie’s bloated body and breathed a sigh of relief. Seemed Drag had lost interest in Barth when he’d spotted a much larger meal. The few zombies who didn’t heed Drag’s warning roar were quickly eaten, and then Drag got to work devouring what was left of Nessie’s brains.

Barth shifted his focus to the horde of approaching zombies. Though he knew without a doubt that slaying zombies had been his true calling, he decided his best option at this point was to run like hell. Easier said than done when he realized the slippery surface which broke his fall was nothing more than bloody Nessie entrails and discarded mermaid fins.

He tried to run but ended up falling on his ass several times.

“Gross!” Nearly his entire body was coated in dead fish ooze.

Barth’s hands were so slippery, it was difficult to wield his sword, but he managed to lop off a few zombie legs and arms before he fell face-first onto a mermaid’s bloody ass.

“Fucking disgusting,” Barth grumbled while wiping his face.

A giant zombie golden goose lunged and pecked a piece of flesh off of his shoulder.

“Ouch! Goddammit!” He swung his sword in a sloppy arc and sliced through most of the goose’s neck. Somehow, the ghoulish bird still managed to honk and moan as it flapped around with its head bent at a ninety degree angle. After flapping and screeching for several moments, it crapped out what looked like a rusty golden egg before flopping to the ground.

As more and more zombies circled him, Barth knew he wouldn’t be able to slay them all.

A thick haze suddenly rolled in and Barth could scarcely see his sword in front of his face. His limbs froze at the familiar sound of Douchebagga’s cackle. In the next instant, he was being swept onto the back of a broom stick.

“Hold on!” she warned in her shrill, nails-on-chalkboard, tone.

Barth had no choice but to wrap his arms around her flabby backside. He cringed as his fingers gripped what he suspected was either a really long stomach flap or a really saggy tit.

As they flew straight up into the sky, Barth was able to catch one last glimpse of his best friend, who was completely tuned out to everything around him, except for feasting on the water monster’s brains.

At that moment, Barthalamew Huganaut the Tenth, mighty zombie-slayer, descendent of royal and brave dragon-killing knights, broke into tears.

“Barth!” Heather breathed a sigh of relief and raced to Barth as Douchebagga dropped him off in the Mega Super Value Medieval Mart parking lot. “I’m so glad you’re alive!” She stopped short just as she was about to hug him. The sight of him covered in slime conjured up a grotesque image of the tampon she’d just flushed in the damsel’s room. “Oh, Barth, you smell.” She pinched her nose and backed up several paces.

“Yeah, I had a run-in with some mermaid corpses.” Barth sniffled before wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

Wolf whispered loudly into Heather’s ear. “Is he crying?”

Barth scowled at Wolf as his lower lip trembled. “My best friend is a zombie and those creatures almost ate me.”

Heather’s heart ached for Barth. There were moments when she thought he acted like a total dickhead. Then there were times like these, when Barth showed his sensitive side, that she thought he acted like a total pussy. But at least he was a nice pussy.

“Suck it up and act like a knight for crying out loud.” Wizard strode up to Barth and handed him a value pack of Mega Super Value sanitizing towels.

Barth wiped bloody wet goo off his arms and legs before fixing Douchebagga with an uneasy expression. “Uhhh…thanks for saving me.”

Douchebagga folded her arms across her chest and harrumphed. “I only saved you so you can tell me what in hell happened to my dragon.”

Heather threw up her hands and groaned. If there was a Most Evil, Selfish and Ugly boss award, Douchebagga would win hands down. Heather was tired of taking her boss’s shit.

She flew into a PMS-induced rage. “Douchebagga! Your stupid potion turned Drag and all the rest of the kingdom into zombies!”

Douchebagga’s ugly eyes widened. “Holy boar dung!”

“You did this and now you must fix it!” Heather stomped up to the old witch and jabbed a finger in her flabby chest.

“How dare you talk to me like that, apprentice!” Douchebagga stepped back and swatted Heather’s hand away while jerking out her wand.

Heather pulled out her own wand and aimed it at her boss, even though she knew it was a stupid idea to try to spar magic with the much more experienced and powerful witch. But she was feeling so bloated and pissed off, she really didn’t care.

“I’m sick of taking your shit, Douchebagga! I’ve had a really bad few days thanks to you, I’ve got PMS, and I’m all out of chocolate ice cream!”

A slow smile crept across the old witch’s face as she lowered her wand. “Oh, PMS, now I get it.”

“Listen.” Heather narrowed her eyes to slits while pressing the tip of her wand into the old witch’s chest. “You will fix this shit you started, or so help me, I will report your unethical behavior to the Druids’ Union and you will lose your license to practice witchcraft forever!”

“Fine, fine, here!” Douchebagga pulled a small vial from between her sagging breast-crack and slapped it into Heather’s palm.

“The antidote?” Heather gasped while lowering her wand. “I thought the prince had stolen it.”

“So did he.” Douchebagga shrugged. “But I’d switched it with something else.”

“Well, whatever you gave him made him incredibly fat,” Barth said.

Douchebagga burst into a fit of hideous cackling. “It’s a special formula I slip into Oprah’s coffee whenever she loses too much weight.”

Heather and Barth exchanged knowing looks.

“That explains it,” Heather said.

“Hurry up and turn my Drag back to normal.” Douchebagga shooed Heather with several flicks of her gnarled hand. “I can’t stand to see him as a zombie.”

Heather folded her arms across her chest and held her ground. She’d made a lot of progress with her boss and wasn’t about to quit now. “Wait a minute, Douchebagga. I’m not finished with you.”

“What now?” The old witch rolled her eyes.

Heather wagged a finger. “No more love potions on anyone ever again.”

Douchegagga groaned. “Fine, fine, whatever.”

Heather held up her hand and began counting off demands on her fingers. “And I want better wages, shorter workdays and a company broom—a two-seater.”

“Here.” Douchebagga picked up her broom and shoved it toward Heather. “You can have my broom. I’ve got a spare, anyway. Just go fix my dragon.”

Heather couldn’t contain her smile. She’d just won a huge victory against Douchebagga.

She turned toward Barth whose own grin stretched from ear to ear. He gave her the thumbs up and mouthed, “Good job,” while patting her shoulder. “So all we need to do is get Drag and the other zombies to drink this and they’ll be cured,” he said.

“How are we going to do that?” Heather asked.

“I don’t know yet.” Barth scratched the back of his head. “Got any ideas?”

Just then a little zombie Snurf appeared from behind a row of discarded Medieval Mart boxes.

“Zombie Snurf at two o’clock,” Wolf howled.

Barth unsheathed his sword and stalked toward the zombie.

“Barth, wait!” Heather gasped. “Don’t kill him.”

She jumped between Barth and the zombie. “Let’s see if we can get him to drink the potion.”

The little blue zombie held out both hands as he dragged his left foot behind him. “Uhhhh…thirst,” he moaned as he advanced toward Heather.

She turned to Barth. “I don’t think he wants our brains. He’s thirsty.”

Heather pulled out her wand and summoned her ale making spell. She poured a drop of the potion into a tankard and handed it to the zombie.

“All that brain-eating made you thirsty, huh, little fella.” She bent over and patted his little head while he drank.

He jerked back and looked at her with wide eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”

Heather jumped up and down and shrieked. “He’s not a zombie anymore!”

“A zombie?” The Snurf made a face while adjusting the tattered little white cap on his head. “Is that what happened to me?”

Heather and Barth nodded.

The Snurf shook his head. “One minute I was getting a Snurfjob from Snurfette in the jacuzzi, then next minute, all I remember was needing to eat her brains.”

“Here come some more zombies,” Wolf warned.

Heather turned to Barth. “Do you think the others are thirsty, too?”

Barth winked at Heather before flashing a playful grin. “Only one way to find out.”

As Heather got to work summoning more pints of ale, her heart seemed to skip several beats. Not just because they were rapidly being surrounded by brain-eating ghouls, and not just because she was feeling flushed from raging PMS hormones.

No, Heather bit on her lower lip and repressed a maidenly sigh as she stole a peek at her brave knight from the corner of her eye. His muscular arms flexed as he kept the thirsty zombies at bay with his sword. He’d even managed to suck in his slight beer gut.

Barth looked magnificent, and even though Heather knew she should make him grovel for a few more chapters, she couldn’t hold back the tender feelings she felt for him. As soon as they cured all of the zombies, provided they weren’t killed in the process, Heather resolved to tell Barth that maybe she loved him, or at the very least, she liked him a whole lot.

* * *

Barth smiled as old friends were reunited. Several dazed and confused fairytale creatures wandered the Medieval Mart parking lot. “Back off. Your breath smells like fish,” a unicorn said to a winged stallion.

“So does yours.” The stallion gagged while fanning the air with his powerful wings. “What have you been eating?”

Heather nudged Barth. “Should we tell them?”

Barth was stunned when he looked down into her dazzling eyes. Judging by the way she was smiling, either she’d been hitting Wolf’s weed, or else maybe she was actually starting to like him.

His chest swelled with happiness. Not just because he might get to end the book with some gratuity sex and spooning, but because he liked Heather, too. Really liked her. Heck, maybe he even loved her. And as long as neither of them were killed or eaten by Drag before the end of the book, he resolved to tell her his true feelings.

Beside him, Heather shrieked.

Barth awakened from his inner dialog to witness a little blue man humping Heather’s leg.

“Hey, pretty lady,” the Snurf grunted. “How about you come with me and finish what Snurfette started?”

“Ewwww!” Heather cried.

Barth quickly unsheathed his sword. That seemed to do the trick. He never knew a Snurf could run so fast with a Snurffy.

“If I catch you near my girl again,” Barth called, “I’m going to slice off a tiny set of blue balls for my mantle.”

The Snurf answered with a squeal as he ran faster.

“Your girl,” Heather cooed as wrapped one arm around Barth’s neck and trailed a finger up his chest.

When their eyes locked, Barth knew he couldn’t wait another moment to tell Heather how he felt. “Heather, there’s something I want to tell you, and I don’t know if it can wait until the end of the book.”