Zombie President

15 & 16

15.

The next morning, under a cruelly bright sun, an exhausted Lenny drove Shelby in his Dodge Challenger. They had been on zombie patrol all night, but had seen nothing. And when Big Jake had returned around sunrise from his fruitless effort to rouse the county, the teens declined the opportunity to catch some sleep. Instead, they were heading into Brewerville.

Lenny negotiated a tricky curve and said, "Do you think Knut will really be able to help us?"

"Well, he's smart," Shelby said. "So maybe he can think of a way to stop those monsters."

"But I haven't thought of a way to stop them."

"Lenny, you haven't thought, period."

"There's no reason to get bitchy with me, Shelby. I don't see you having a brilliant plan either."

"My plan is to see Knut, you moron!"

"But doesn't that make you feel... um... what's the word... low? Because you're not smart enough to figure out something yourself."

"Look, Lenny, I don't know where your little self-esteem problem is coming from, but I've always felt pretty secure in what I am. I'm a fucking beautiful white girl with a tight ass, and I'm dating you because you're the male version of me. That's what our society dictates you and me do. Understand?"

Lenny frowned as he pondered Shelby's statement. After a short pause, he grinned and said, "And society dictates that Knut help people like us because he's smart and ugly."

"Exactly."

"So, it's like evolution that we cruise through life on our good looks, and Knut works his ass off just to get the smallest bit of respect."

"Right. You feel better now?"

Lenny nodded and smiled like a doofus Newfoundland as he pulled into the Gassy Gas gas station. He parked the Challenger and hopped out, with Shelby right behind him. The teens walked to the back of the gas station, where Knut was doing paperwork in the office.

Knut hated his weekend job, but college wasn't going to pay for itself, so he kept the station's books and ran the office for ten bucks an hour. It was a rip-off. But things were looking up today, Knut decided, because now Shelby Larssen was talking to him.

"We need your help," Shelby said.

Knut put aside the paperwork and said, "To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing not only you, but your dad as well, in a twelve-hour span?"

"Do you know how to kill zombies?" Lenny asked.

"Is that a metaphysical question?" Knut said.

"They really exist, and they really tried to kill me and Lenny last night," Shelby said.

"Lenny and me," Knut corrected.

Shelby, flustered, said, "Knut, there are zombies, and they are going to kill everyone unless somebody does something. That somebody is you."

Knut stood, looking at Shelby intently. He appeared to be contemplating Shelby's statement, but he was actually checking out her cleavage.

"To be honest, I researched the various scenarios in which zombies might exist, and there are several possible ways in which cadaverous matter could be revitalized," Knut said.

"What?" Lenny said.

"Dead people might be coming back to eat your brain," Knut clarified. "And while the scientific odds of a zombie invasion are small, they're still much higher than I would have presumed. They're in the same ballpark as the odds that we're all living in a Matrix-type computer program and exist solely for the amusement of some extraterrestrial overlord."

Lenny and Shelby said nothing. Knut shook his head.

"Never mind," Knut said. "Let's go back to my house and get my laptop."

They walked out of the office, headed for Lenny's car.

"So you believe us?" Shelby asked.

"I didn't say that," Knut said.

16.

Mr. Alvarado was too big to be a hobbit, but he definitely believed in the concept of second breakfast. He was having his now, as Mrs. Alvarado placed another plate of chilaquiles in front of him.

"This is great, honey," he mumbled between stuffing his face. "There's enough here to feed an army."

Mr. Alvarado was too busy wolfing down his daily allotment of 10,000 calories to notice that Samuel Tilden had just walked into the kitchen. Tilden appeared fierce and hungry, and he glowered at the Alvarados. A whole mob of ravenous zombies flanked him.

Mrs. Alvarado stared at the sudden appearance of an army of the undead.

"Oh, hello," Mrs. Alvarado said. "Have you eaten?"