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Chapter Twenty-Seven: A Beautiful Nightmare
Zombies surrounded Jamie on all sides – she gripped her gun, ready to unload a full clip into anyone who tried to attack. At least thirty creatures moaned around her, shambling forward, pale and rotting skin peeling from their bodies, blood splattered all over their lips. Jamie’s fingers caressed the trigger as she smiled and began to slaughter.
“Kill ‘em all, babe!” Jack cried, cheering her on from nearby. The creatures fell in droves, wailing, screaming, their skull’s contents gushing all over the tile floor. Jamie’s lips curled up into a hysterical grin, drunk with bloodlust and pure, disgusting prowess.
“LEGENDARY SCORE,” announced the cavernous videogame screen, applauding Jamie’s shooting skill with confetti and fanfare. An alphabet popped up on the monitor, and Jamie quickly typed in her initials. Soon after, “JED” appeared as Rank #1 on the high-score screen.
“Damn it! My accuracy sucks,” Jamie complained as she stared at her 98 percent headshot rating. “I shot that one guy in the stomach – I can’t believe that! Augh!”
Mia strode over to the game, taking a monstrous bite out of a foot-long hot dog; it was slathered in horseradish, onions and nacho cheese. She licked the foul-smelling goo from her lips and patted Jamie on the back. “Stop complaining,” she said, yelling over the noise of the arcade. “It isn’t like anyone is ever going to beat your score.” She pointed to the screen – the ‘Top Ten All-Time Hi-Scores’ list read ‘JED’ from top to bottom.
“I guess you’re right,” Jamie said with heavy sarcasm, sliding the plastic pistol back into its slot. She scratched her eyebrows and instinctively felt her pockets – the familiar jingle of quarters was loud and promising. She smiled, turning to Jack and giving him a loving hug. “Well, at least I beat my record, right?’
“Yeah! You do it every time you come here, but yeah.”
They both laughed, kissing each other as Mia took another bite of her gooey hot dog, pretending to gag on it. “Dude, let’s get out of here,” she said, swallowing. “Killing zombies is getting really fucking old.”
“Hey, you never know when you’ll have to kill some zombies,” said Jamie, smiling.
“Yeah, and I’m sure that when the situation arises, I’ll be armed to the teeth with infinite ammo and random health packs. Let’s go.” Mia began to walk out of the arcade, and, after a quick moment of thought, Jamie and Jack followed her.
Outside, the sky began to darken as a carpet of billowing clouds overpowered the sun. Mia inhaled the last bite of her hot dog, licked her fingers and stared up at the developing rain clouds. “Shit… shit, shit shit! It is not gonna rain,” she whined, angrily kicking the asphalt. “Dude, we still have to hit up the theme park!”
“Mia, it’s already 5 o’clock—”
“But it’s Mischief Night! What about our plans, guys?” She saw some nacho cheese on her wrist and began to lick it off, walking backwards toward Jack’s Land Rover. “Are you guys really gonna get defeated by a little rain?”
“But Mia—”
“So you’re saying we wasted all that money buying firecrackers?”
“No! I mean, I like to party just as much as the next girl, but—”
“Then let’s hit up the theme park! We still have time.”
“M—”
“Pussies,” she cried out as she hopped into the passenger seat of the car. Jamie turned to her boyfriend and stared at him with pleading eyes. Don’t let her do this. But Jack’s eyes were glazed over, and as Jamie placed her hands on his shoulders, kissing him gently on his cheek, she realized that there would be no talking to him.
“Jack, please,” she said again, kissing him on the lips this time – they were cold, and he didn’t respond for a long time.
“Hellooo?” Mia called out in that obnoxious voice of hers, banging her knuckles on the dashboard. “Are we going or not?”
Jack gave Jamie a light hug and raised his car keys, smiling at her. Sorry, babe. He grabbed her hand and dragged her over to the car, opening the backseat door for her. After she had reluctantly climbed in, shifting against the giant box of firecrackers, Jack ran around to the other side of the car and climbed into the driver’s seat.
Jamie looked on from the backseat as Jack and Mia shared a sly glance. “How is this gonna go down, then?”
Mia smiled wide, sticking her tongue out through her teeth. Her eyes floated around for a moment before they finally rested on Jack. “The Scream, dude.”
“The Scream? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Jamie screamed from the backseat.
“Whaaaat?” Mia moaned, smirking. “Come on, don’t be a party pooper—”
“I am not going to kill anyone, Mia!”
“We’re not gonna kill people; we might break a leg or two but—”
“No,” the markswoman yelled. “Jack, you’re not going through with this, are you?”
Jack’s face was a statue; he stared blankly through the windshield, gently tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. He quickly looked to Jamie, to Mia, the box of firecrackers, and back to Jamie.
“Well… it is Mischief Night –”
“You’re actually considering killing innocent people?”
“What are you talking about? We didn’t kill anybody last time. Remember?”
“Last time was like a nightmare, Jack! I still have the burns to prove it,” she cried, lifting her purple tank top to reveal a long, dark scar across her abdomen. “Fuck that – you’re lucky I’m even letting you go at all! There’s no way we’re doing The Scream.”
Jack and Mia shared another glance. “Get out, then,” said Mia.
“Hell no.”
“What? C’mon – we’re gonna do this whether you like it or not, and it would really help if you weren’t there bitching all the time. Lighten up.”
“Lighten up? You’re going to kill people.”
“What makes you think that?”
“What wouldn’t make me think that? The whole idea is dangerous and stupid! Plus, there are twenty times more explosives here than we had last time!”
“They’re not explosives—”
“I don’t care – they’re still dangerous as fuck! Especially if you want to do the fucking Scream.”
“Jamie, chill out,” said Jack, placing his hand on her shoulder. She wrenched herself away from him.
“No! I won’t let you – I won’t let you guys kill someone. This is too much shit, guys…”
“Jamie, please—”
Suddenly, Jamie yanked her gun from its holster, flicked the safety off and pointed it at the box of firecrackers. Jack and Mia flinched, as if the gun were being pointed at their foreheads.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
“Ah… you’re not so eager to blow it to shit now, huh?”
“Jamie,” said Jack, as calmly as he could muster. “Come on. What are you doing, babe? Put the… just put it down, alright?”
“Not until you promise me that we’ll only use half – the whole box is too dangerous.”
“But that’s not even worth—”
Jamie tapped the barrel against the colorful explosives, glaring at Jack as she did so.
“Okay… okay, we’ll only use half.”
“And only the small ones.”
“Oh, now that’s just unf — uh… shit… alright,” Mia muttered after Jamie curled her finger tightly around the trigger.
“Thank you,” she said, flicking the safety back on and shoving the gun into its holster. “Now let’s get go—”
What’s up, Stacey Callihan? You…
Pale, slender fingers gently tapped the windshield as Stacey walked up to the car, fiddling with her cell phone. The little device told Stacey how many messages she had, her horoscope, showed a real-time video of her retarded kitten Mew-Mew, and finally announced the weather before Stacey killed the voice and started to scroll. She stared at the phone for a few moments longer, finally looking up and waving at her friends inside the car. “Let me in,” she mouthed.
Jack unlocked the doors, and Stacey clambered into the back seat, crawling over Jamie and shoving the firecrackers aside before she plopped down and strapped on her seat belt. “So… where are we going?”
They all stared at the girl – her blood-colored hair was wrapped in a perky side-ponytail, her legs sported ripped-up black jeans, and she was wearing a pink tube-top that read “Dracula Sucks”. Jack cleared his throat and pointed to the firecrackers.
“See those?”
She twisted her head, smiled, and turned back to him. “Yep! Oh, are we throwing a party or something?”
“Ha, we’re throwing a party alright,” Mia muttered from the front seat. “It’s gonna be so wild, your preppy ass won’t know what hit you.”
“Sweet!”
“Stacey,” said Jack, giving Mia a warning glance, “It’s not that kind of party.”
“I’ll come anyway. I just want to get out of the house, you know?”
“I thought you didn’t want to be outside – that’s why you stayed at Jamie’s house to watch TV, right?”
“I just didn’t want to go to the arcade. Videogames are stupid.”
“So you just walked here and waited for us?”
“Yeppers!” She said, stretching her arms and wrapping them around Jamie, kissing the girl’s forehead.
“Desperate…” said Mia.
“Hey – I just want to chill with my main homies, you know? You guys are super lucky that I didn’t just go hang out with Julian today.”
“You did not just say ‘homies’…”
“Who the hell is Julian?”
“Her new boyfriend,” said Jamie. “The one with the scar, remember?”
“Holy shit, you’re dating that?”
“Look, look, look,” Jack interrupted, shaking his head and his hands. “Stop getting off the subject – Stacey, get out of the car. You’re not coming with us.”
Still clinging onto Jamie, Stacey pouted and wiped a tear from her eye. “But—”
“Stacey, we’re doing something bad. I’m just trying to protect you, okay?”
“Not your job,” Stacey said. “You’re not my boyfriend, and you can’t tell me what to do.”
“Stacey, seriously…”
“Nope,” she laughed, gripping Jamie tighter. “I’m totally coming with you guys, whether you like it or not.”
“Jack, we’re wasting time,” Mia groaned, rapping her knuckles on the dashboard. “Let’s just go.”
“I… fuck! Fine, then. Everybody strap in,” said Jack, shoving his keys into the ignition and revving the engine. “We’re about to throw one hell of a party.”
Distant screams of excitement could be heard as people were slowly raised to the very top of the tower by a rickety elevator, dangling helplessly in the clouds before they were suddenly dropped, falling freely until powerful air brakes gently lowered them to the ground – dazed, nauseous and scared shitless, but safe.
Jamie and Stacey stood underneath a nearby awning, waiting eagerly for the big bang; Stacey fiddled with her nails and complained about how the humidity would frizz her hair. Meanwhile, Jack and Mia huddled under the tower, hiding. They unloaded the fireworks from their pockets, placing them in a neat little pile. Mia slid a foot-long explosive from her pants – she shared a devious glance with Jack, and placed it in the pile.
“Jamie said we shouldn’t use the big—”
“Dude, fuck Jamie,” said Mia, reaching into her pocket and revealing a small aluminum lighter; engraved on the side in small gothic letters was Trust No One.
Jack sighed and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Are you totally sure you want to do this?”
Mia twirled the little silver lighter in her fingers. “It’s too late – there’s no going back now.”
“All right, then. Ready?”
She placed her thumb on the business-end of the lighter, slamming it down and staring lovingly into the sudden stream of fire. It danced slightly in the wind, threatening to flicker away, dwindling all the way down to the blue-hot base, and back up again. A frown quickly crawled onto Mia’s face, and she let go of the lighter. The flame disappeared.
“Give me a minute, alright? I’ll be right back, dude – don’t go anywhere,” she said, hopping up and sprinting away. She was gone before Jack could manage to say “huh?”
Mia jogged through the theme park, searching for the nearest bathroom. She hurried along the cobblestone streets, passing people under awnings, glancing at them as she ran. It suddenly dawned on Mia that it was October 30th – the night before Halloween. It was a freak-show; sticky, costumed children gnawed on half-melted cotton candy and shoved popcorn down their fucking throats, complaining about the rain to their parents, who sat patiently next to them and calmly told them to keep eating their popcorn. People’s faces were splotched with cheap makeup, and the rain made it drip down onto their clothes. Mia ran through crowds of sweaty, moaning people, their mouths hanging open and their arms wrapped around cheap stuffed-animal prizes as if they were worth more than gold.
She sprinted past the disgusting mob as quickly as she could, keeping away from them. She began to feel as if these people were infected with stupid – they were a horde retarded zombies, all predictable, all repulsive to look at. It was times like these – times when the stupidity of human nature was obvious – when Mia wished that she did have a pistol with unlimited ammo, just so that there’d be less idiots in the world. She shook her head in mourning as she realized that killing all these fuckers would be nothing more than a hopeful dream.
She finally reached a bathroom; apparently the theme was “Pirates!” because the outside was decorated like the hull of a ship, and the bathroom doors read ‘Mates’ and ‘Lasses’. Mia shoved past the horde of zombies, running through the pouring rain, past a barrel with a plastic skeleton sitting on it, and finally through the “Lasses” door.
The bathroom, keeping up with the pirate theme, had wooden stalls and cast-iron sinks. The floor pattern was waterlogged wood grain, the mirror sported fake mold on the edges – hell, even the soap dispensers were in the shape of parrots. But what truly struck Mia as odd was… the bathroom was completely empty. That’s weird, Mia thought as she walked to the toilet. I thought this place would be brimming with idiots.
She reached the toilet and fell to her knees, breathing hard. You’re not going to kill anyone – not tonight, she thought as she grasped the toilet bowl. But it was no use – the fear still gripped her. Her stomach twisted and turned, and she buckled forward as she vomited, her eyes shut tight. It splashed into the toilet bowl, and she coughed a few times before spitting and stumbling toward the cast-iron sinks. After drinking some water and wetting her face, she sighed and sat down on the sink. “I’ve gotta give you some props, Stacey,” she said to nobody, staring up at the ceiling. “That’s some nasty shit you do almost every day.”
“It’s black, isn’t it?
“Fuck!” She screamed, falling off the sink and quickly running toward the door. She slammed against it and twisted the handle, but it was no use – it was locked. Mia turned around and stared frantically around the bathroom, searching for the source of the voice.
Thin, chilly fingers caressed Mia’s neck; she shivered involuntarily as the pale hand slid around her throat. An arm wrapped itself around her waist, and Mia was slowly led over to a moldy mirror. Staring at her reflection, she glared at the specter that was gripping her.
“You scared the living shit out me. What do you want, Ricky?”
“How have you been, love?” He asked in that gorgeous accent of his, his ghost-white skin glowing in the florescent light. He slowly loosened his grip on her throat and gave her a hug from behind. He placed his pale, decrepit face on her shoulder, nuzzling her neck. She shivered again.
“I’m fine,” Mia whispered, turning around and staring into his yellow-green eyes. “It’s been a long fucking time, dude. I thought they’d caught you.” She placed her fingers on the back of his ice-cold neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Her lips touched gently against his – they were chapped and tasted like blood. After a moment of tenderness, she quickly shoved her tongue into his mouth; they griped each other feverishly, angrily, coldly.
“If they had caught me, you’d see it all over CNN. The Zombie Boy, they’d call me. Ha! Wouldn’t that be,” Ricky said, pressing his forehead against hers, slathering his black tongue against her lips, “Just absolutely frightening? Wouldn’t the world fall apart, love?”
“That’s the funny thing,” said Mia, hugging her pale boyfriend close. They were both abnormally tall, and Mia was just slightly shorter than Ricky. “That’s how I want the world to be. We live on a planet full of fucking idiots, and they all deserve to die. All of them.”
Ricky pulled away from her and smiled that crooked, yellow smile of his. He licked his lips and grabbed Mia’s hand, leading her over to the corner of the bathroom. “Lay down.”
Mia hesitated for a moment, but kissed his cheek and slowly lay down on the waterlogged floor. Ricky joined her, and they hugged each other in the smelly, florescent ambience of the theme-park bathroom.
“That’s what I love about you, Mia. You’re not afraid to segregate yourself from what the world considers normal. You’re unique and fierce,” he said, staring longingly into her black eyes.
“And on top of everything else, I’m just like you,” said Mia, smiling wide. Without doubt or hesitation, she grabbed his pale, skinny neck and bit him. Black blood gushed heavily from his wound, and as the girl gnawed his flesh, he smiled and gently stroked her hair. Mia sucked the blood from his neck until she had her fill, and slowly loosened her jaw. Her chin was drenched with black goo; she smiled, leaned forward and kissed Ricky deeply.
"How's that for a hickey?" She snarled, Ricky's oily blood gushing from her lips.
His neck still bleeding profusely, they rolled around on the bathroom floor, ripping off each other’s clothes as they kissed. Mia yanked off his brown leather jacket, and he slid off her ripped-up top. Cold flesh pressed against cold flesh, against cold blood, against cold tile.
“The world… is gonna… fucking pay…” Ricky muttered through Mia’s relentless tongue. She stopped kissing him and grabbed his throat, straddling him. A puddle of charcoal blood began to form underneath the diseased teenagers.
“I thought you couldn’t infect people the way they’re supposed to be infected,” she said, gripping his neck tighter. He smiled as the edges of his eyes began to turn dark red. “I thought you were just waiting for the right moment.”
“And that moment is coming sooner than you think, love. But until then,” he said, wrenching free of Mia’s grip and rolling the girl onto her back, “I’ve got you all to myself.”
She smiled one last time. “I can’t wait.”
“What, did you miss me?” Mia sneered, playfully shoving Jack with her pinky. Jack looked her over – her hair was matted and her clothes were stained with something – it looked like motor oil.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“Got caught in the rain.”
Jack stared at her for another moment before letting it go – Mia would always be Mia, and there was usually no point arguing with her. “You got the lighter?”
“That I do,” she said, feeling through her pocket for the slim hunk of metal. She found it, flicked it, and held the flame an inch away from the fuse.
“Ready?”
They stared at each other – ready.
Mia moved the flame into the fuse until it caught; sparks began to fly wildly, and the teenagers immediately burst out running.
Thirty seconds later, a series of fiery, multicolored explosions disfigured five people and burned ten more. People screamed throughout the cobblestone streets, calling the police and the fire department, sobbing, yelling “terrorist attack!” But… nobody died that night. People were hurt badly, but nobody died. Nobody ever dies because of Mia Smithson.
Not yet.