the canister outstretched in front of me. “Stay where you are. I’ve called the police. They’re on their way.” I prayed he couldn’t hear the lie in my shaky voice.
The man stumbled toward me, making a strange clicking sound with his teeth. His head was canted so far to the right it looked as if he was about to topple over.
What the hell is wrong with him? “Stay back.”
Ignoring me, he lumbered into the light. The man looked to be in his early twenties. His cloudy, unfocused gaze creeped me out even more than the bright red blood coating his face and shirt.
My heart hammered against my sternum. What happened to him, and what did he do to that woman?
The woman in question lurched upright. Her long, bright red hair extensions were unmistakable.
“Jess, are you oka—” My words cut off as she stumbled into the light.
Her yellow minidress was shredded down the front. Even worse, her intestines streamed out of an open wound in her stomach like grizzly Christmas garland.
Oh, God. “Jess…”
She lifted her head and met my gaze with eerie white eyes. Then she gnashed her teeth together and tottered in my direction.
For a moment, every muscle in my body froze. The pepper spray bottle dropped from my trembling hand and hit the pavement with a thunk.
This can’t be happening.
The man staggered closer. The horrible sound of his teeth clicking echoed in my ears.
Coming to my senses, I turned and ran through the alley. I made it to the parking lot and frantically scanned for Uncle Duncan’s beat-up truck. It was gone. Other than a few parked vehicles, the lot was deserted.
Oh, crap. I’d taken too long. He'd left me.
A whimper escaped my lips.
Light blazed from the windows of the sex shop like a homing beacon. I rushed through the door. Bells jangled as I slammed it behind me.
A fiftyish man with a thick paunch glanced at me through the rows of multicolored dildos lined up across the counter. “Good evening. What can I—”
With my chest heaving, I panted, “Zombie.”
The man, who’s thinning red hair and lime-green bowling shirt made him look like an over-the-hill leprechaun, shook his head. “Sorry, no zombies. But we have an entire section dedicated to vampire role-play. It’s over by the lubes.” He motioned to the left of the store.
“There are zombies outside.” I knew I sounded crazy. I half expected him to throw me out of his store.
Instead, the man nodded. “I knew it was just a matter of time.” He leaned down and grabbed a shotgun from behind the counter. “It’s closing time.” He marched to the door and flipped the sign hanging on the handle from Open to Closed. “My name is Cal.”
“I’m Lee.”
“This is only the beginning, Lee. I’ve been watching the news. Things are going to get bad. Real bad. I give it forty-eight hours before they overrun the city.”
I swallowed hard. “Shouldn’t we call the police?”
His laugh sounded like a wheeze. “They can’t help us. Our only chance is to gather weapons and supplies and wait the worst of it out. I have a well-stocked underground shelter.” He gave me a head-to-toe scan and licked his lips. “You’re welcome to join me.”
My skin crawled and my internal creeper alarm flashed red. “Um, thanks, but I need to get home.”
He frowned. “Suit yourself. Can I give you a lift?”
Hmm. Creepy sex shop owner vs. zombies. Damn. This is a no-win situation.
Taking my silence as a refusal, he shook his head. “At least let me walk you to the street.” He pushed the door open.
“Thanks.” I followed him out.
As we walked past the alley, I couldn’t help stopping and peering through the darkness.
It looked empty.
Did I imagine it?
I rubbed my eyes. Maybe I did. I’d been working a lot lately. And, if I was being honest, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten over four hours of sleep.
Cal darted ahead, stopping every few feet to survey the handful of vehicles occupying the unpaved parking lot his store shared with Eros.
Country music filtered out of the strip club. I stopped in my tracks. Jess used that song in her routine…
How can she be inside dancing when I’d just seen her—
The realization of what had really happened slammed into me like a cement truck.
Goddamn it. There were no walking dead. There was just a bitchy stripper with a chip on her shoulder and a love for cruel practical jokes. I should’ve known better. It was just like the time she’d put