Chapter 23 #4
Nick brushed a hand over the tops of the ink bottles, hoping they had enough here to inoculate Portland against the zombie virus.
‘Do you have any business cards?’ asked Nick.
‘Do I ever.’ Joaquin slid over another giant tub, this one utterly brimming with tiny black cards with elaborate filigree working and gold stamping. ‘Got these from this girl down in a place called Mirage-by-the-Sea in SoCal.’
‘Tink?’ said Reba and Gracie simultaneously.
Joaquin nodded. ‘That’s the one. She does brilliant work. Plus it was a good excuse to make the drive. Beautiful town. Strange weather, though.’
Reba and Gracie shared a look.
‘Oh, we know, babe,’ said Reba. ‘We sheltered through a pretty impressive storm last year. But we did get to see true love blossom, so there was that.’
‘Lovely moment, friends,’ said Nick, ‘but shall we get to the dezombification part? My girl’s out there, and she’s not in good shape.’
‘Got it, boss,’ said Ainsley. ‘Well, not boss. But you know what I mean.’
The group set to work loading up the syringes with ink, recapping each one as they went.
‘Shit, my back,’ groaned Celeste, when they had a large mound of filled syringes between them. ‘I’m not built for manual labour. Unless standing over a sound mixer counts.’
‘It totally counts, babe,’ said Ainsley, who was loading and capping syringes with impressive speed. ‘And … one hundred! Double what Terriffany predicted we’ll need – we should be in a good spot, even if our aim is terrible. Which, let’s face it, it is.’
Popping her last syringe on top of the pile, Ainsley did a celebratory chair dance. Celeste joined in, managing to work through most of her Wall of Knobs stage oeuvre in a seated position before accidentally kicking herself in the ankle and swearing.
Gracie’s camera clicked as she captured the strange scene.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘The camera documents all.’
‘Don’t forget the sharps receptacles for used syringes,’ said Reba, grandly, as she set out a series of metal canisters, looping a tie-dyed scarf through each one for easy cross-body carrying. ‘Let’s be safe out there. And think of our waste-disposal friends.’
Having performed a peace prayer over the the ink-filled syringes, Joaquin declared they were ready to hit the streets. But also that their business insurance wouldn’t cover whatever the group had planned once they stepped outside.
‘C’mon, Zoey, your knight in shining armour is on her way,’ Ainsley said, posing gladiatorially. ‘And also her girlfriend. And also your boyfriend.’
‘Wow, I’ve been accepted into the family,’ said Nick wryly. Although he was secretly delighted that Ainsley had called him Zoey’s boyfriend. He planned to tell her all about it once he’d dezombified her. Which he would do, soon.
Ink-filled needles at the ready, the gang emerged back out onto the cloudy street. A woman walking seven dogs and three ferrets meandered past, giving them a wave with a leash-filled hand.
‘Free tattoo?’ asked Nick, handing her one of Joaquin’s business cards. ‘Just let me give you a quick dot on the wrist, and you’re eligible. It’s the tattoo equivalent of the Blues Festival wristband.’
‘Um, sure,’ said the woman. ‘I never say no to free. And I love the Blues Festival.’
Nick added a dot to her wrist, then passed her a business card, which she tucked into her ironic vintage Nineties fanny pack.
‘Solid zombie-prevention business model,’ said Ainsley, approvingly. ‘But what about the actual zombies?’
‘Just stick ’em.’ Reba made an alarming jabbing motion. ‘And if they turn out not to be zombies, just say you were swatting a mosquito.’
‘I’d accept being stabbed if it meant not being bitten by a mosquito,’ said Celeste. ‘At least stab wounds aren’t itchy.’
Nick brandished his syringe. They were locked and loaded. Well, in a sense. Now all they had to do was find Zoey … and then deal with the rest of the zombies.
Nick tried to put himself in Zoey’s mind.
Think like Zoey. Think like Zoey. She’d left the house this morning to go somewhere.
But where? Not the smoothie shop. Not the Lone Fir Cemetery.
Not the nearest bookshop (Belmont Books) or the nearest library (the Belmont branch, on Cesar Chavez). He’d already checked all of those.
‘We need to be on foot,’ said Gracie. ‘The vehicles won’t work for mass zombie stabbing. Especially if we’re going to navigate the Zombie Shuffle without running anyone over.’
‘Not to mention that zombie bites would ruin my paint job,’ added Reba.
‘Scooters,’ Nick said, decisively. ‘We can use scooters.’
‘Not the ones from the scooter stack near the sharehouse?’ Ainsley sighed. ‘But what about the Lardo bet? Zoey deserves free Lardo, especially after the whole zombification thing.’
Celeste squeezed Ainsley’s hand. ‘Oh my gods, babe. If you girls wanted to eat at Lardo, you should’ve just said. The kitchen manager is my cousin’s roommate. And also, the money from this airline-safety-video thing is enough to pay for Lardo every day.’
Ainsley sighed again, more theatrically this time. ‘But we only wanted scooter Lardo. It’s not the same otherwise. You’ve gotta work for these things, babe.’
‘Eh, I’ve got a bunch of scooters in the back of the Kombi,’ said Reba. ‘I was going to resell them, but I’m willing to let them go in the name of a good cause. Might even get more for them if I can say they were involved in a zombie-fighting mission.’
Nick drew in a deep breath. All right. It was time.
‘Let’s split up,’ he said firmly.
Ainsley whacked him on the arm. ‘No, shit, don’t say that. Have you never watched a horror movie? And while I’d make an amazing final girl, the trauma would be more than my long-suffering therapist could bear.’
Nick folded his arms. ‘It’s fine, Ainsley. Because this isn’t a horror movie. It’s a romance.’
A murmur went up among the little group.
Ainsley nodded. ‘Okay, fair. Let’s go get the girl.’