“Mother fucker, more than second mother, but yes, that makes sense.” That spark of mine promptly flickered. “Though none of that explains how she became a zombie or why she’s attacking the humans.”
“No?” his smile seemed to remain.
“Um, no,” I replied. “Am I missing something here?”
“You ever hear of two hens ruling the roost? Two queens running the empire?”
It took a while for all the tumblers to fall into place, what with a severe oil shortage in my noggin, but eventually everything lined up. Ding! Ding! Ding! “Fuck,” I cursed. “It’s all been a trap. She couldn’t come and get me, but she could sure as hell get me to come here by attacking the humans, all of whom knew of me, knew exactly where to find me.”
“And if she kills you, she becomes the lone queen.”
“And another mystery is solved.”
“Little good it does us,” he griped.
“Well,” I countered, “it’s more than we knew before. And at least we know what she’s up to and why: kill me and the rule the planet.” I couldn’t help but grin at the thought. “Yep, sounds like a drag queen.”
“Takes one to know one, huh?”
My grin widened. “Takes one to beat one.”
***
We hightailed it out of there a minute later. After all, we couldn’t let them get too far ahead. The only reason we found her this time was because she wanted us to; next time I knew wasn’t going to be as easy, especially if we lost sight of her.
And next time, I promised myself, she wasn’t going to get the better of us.
“There,” said Ricky, pointing to a side street about thirty minutes into our trek. “There they are.”
Their group being so large, they proceeded more slowly. Plus, even in the near darkness they were easy to spot, seeing as they moved as one and didn’t simply mill about like the rest of the zombies all around us did.
“Let’s keep our distance, though,” I said to him. “We can see them and they can’t see us. We have to make sure it stays that way.”
“Agreed,” he agreed. “Stick to the sidewalk. Should they happen to turn around and spot us, it will simply look like we’re being forced to walk in a straight line, the buildings keeping us on the same path as them.” And then he put the icing on the cake. Or, more accurately, pulled it off. “And better lose the wig and fedora because, trust me, you stick out like a platinum-blonde sore thumb in those things.” He then had the gall to point downward. “And off with the heels.”
I put manicured hand to non-beating chest. “Next you’re going to tell me to wipe off the makeup.”
He chuckled. “Actually, the makeup I can, um, live with.”
“Bitch.”
He shrugged. “I can live with that, too. Just so long as we both live or, more accurately, survive. And without the wig and heels, we blend in with everyone else.”
My grimace returned. “Yeah, because that’s just what a drag queen wants to do: blend in with everyone else.”
Still, he had a point. And Blondella had Dara. So the wig and the heels were lost and, just to be safe, I smudged the makeup, making yours truly the best-looking raccoon-face on the block. After that, they led, while we followed and groaned just like all the other zombies.
Sadly, though, none of that mattered.
See, they knew where they were going; that sadly part was when we finally found out just where that was. I mean, I should’ve realized that Blondella hadn’t been spending the past three hundred plus years roaming the streets. Street corners, fine; that was more her style. And so was an inner city nightclub that was practically the length of an entire block.
“Every queen needs a castle,” I lamented as we watched her and her zombie entourage, plus my beloved Dara, disappear inside, the guards outside, a half-dozen of them, unflinching, unmoving, more like statues than anything remotely human, moonlight illuminating their pale, emotionless faces.
“Ten to one, they don’t take bribes,” said Ricky.
“Not unless you have some spare fresh brains on you, which the zombies love above all other organs.”
He felt around his pockets. “Too bad.”
“So sad.”
“And now what?”
I looked up the block and down the block. It was obvious that the guards were standing outside the only entrance. Still, at least we had the cover of darkness on our side. “We need a diversion, but not one that’s obvious. We can’t let her think that we somehow found her, that she was followed, that we’re nearby.”
He grunted. “Gee, is that all?”
“Sarcasm will get you nowhere, sweetie.” And, yes, even I found that statement laughable.
The grunt repeated. “Please forgive me. You see, returning from the dead after a few centuries takes the cheerfulness out of a person. I mean, everyone and everything I ever loved is gone, so I’m finding it awfully difficult to be all sunshine and roses.”
I patted his shoulder. “I’m . . . I’m sorry. You’re right. Were you, um, were you married, kids?”
He nodded. “Seven years plus some change. No kids.”
“What was her name?”