Fiends and Familiars - Debra Dunbar Page 0,51

the “costumes” or other unusual sights, then gone home to have blurred memories of a good time—not too good a time, though.

“Yeah, it’s where I grew up.” Nostalgia hit me hard. “It was just too far to commute for my job, so I moved.”

“What do you do?”

“Pest and wildlife control.” I waited for the “ewww” expression and was surprised to see Rita purse her lips in thought.

“That’s cool. I love it when I meet women who have jobs that have usually been thought of as careers for men. Do you really wrestle snakes?”

I laughed. “They don’t require wrestling. They’re very nice, actually. Very cooperative. We have a pleasant chat, then I carry them out to my truck and relocate them to a place where someone isn’t going to try to whack their head off with the sharp edge of a shovel.”

“You’re a better woman than I am.” She tapped my beer with her own. “Are you staying for the zombie chase through the corn maze? It’s right after we eat. I told Ralph that was a bad idea. People are going to be puking out in the cornfield, running around after eating like that.”

“Zombie chase? Through a cornfield maze?” Wow, that sounded like fun.

Rita nodded. “It’ll be pitch dark by then, so super fun and scary. About ten of us are designated as zombies, but you won’t know who until you get out there. You’ll get flags to stick in your waistband. Anyone who makes it to the end of the maze with their flag, gets a prize.”

“And the zombies are wearing costumes?” I asked.

“Hell yeah. We’ve got a few masks and some old Halloween getups that our zombies are going to throw on to make it fun.” She giggled. “I hope Derrick is one of the zombies. I wouldn’t mind it if he tackled me and grabbed my…flag.”

I laughed. “Maybe you should take charge and be the one pursuing a zombie instead.”

“I might just do that.” Her gaze drifted over to the man in question, then back to me. “You’re not interested, are you? I don’t want to step on your toes if you’re working that.”

I was so not working that. Aside from a possible business contact, that is.

“Nope. I’m getting out of a very brief relationship and am just looking for friends right now.”

She clinked her beer bottle against mine again. “Then count me in. And to commemorate our new friendship, let me introduce you to the Jell-O shot table.”

Rita and I did a few rounds of Jell-O shots, decided we were going to start taking Crossfit classes together starting a week from Monday, and made plans to meet for coffee Sunday morning. We were just selecting a third round of shots when someone whistled and announced that they were about to start the zombie run through the corn maze. Rita and I staggered over, met Lonnie at the table where two women were distributing flags, and helped each other tuck the scraps of fabric into our waistbands, all the while giggling about whether we should tie them to our underwear or not.

Sure. Why not? It wouldn’t really be cheating, especially since we’d be running the risk of a massive wedgie.

We got in line, Rita in front of me and Lonnie behind me. Ralph came by and gave us a full beer for liquid courage, and we inched our way to the entrance of the corn maze. We each got a ten second head start. I was number six in line and by the time Rita took off, I was already hearing the screams and shrieks from the corn maze. I grinned, bouncing on my feet with excitement.

“No cell phone, right?” Derrick asked as I stepped up to the entrance of the maze.

“Nope.” There was a full moon peeking from scattered clouds, and outside the corn maze the farm was lit up in shades of gray. It was dark enough to make everything more than five feet away a shapeless blur, but light enough that you wouldn’t accidently run into the side of the barn. I expected it would be a bit darker in the corn maze, which would add to the spookiness of the game.

And once the moon went behind the clouds, we’d all be stumbling around in the dark.

“Go!”

On Derrick’s command I took off running. The path split three ways fifty feet in. Going on instinct, I went left. That’s when I discovered that I’d been horribly wrong about the amount of light in this corn