Zoey and the Zombies (A Mondamin Court Adventure)

Chapter Five #3

Ethan laid his head against the car window, staring out as their neighborhood came into view. Ruth and Esther chattered in the seat next to him, but he ignored them. He'd been daydreaming. It was a sin, most likely, to be daydreaming in church, but he couldn't help it. It was so boring. So he dreamed of airships and ruined towns, like in the book he was reading.

Two middle-aged men stood side by side on the corner of Mondamin Court, talking. One was white, with gray hair and a trim build. The other was black and paunchy around the middle. He saw them there frequently, but he didn't know their names. They just were.

Farther down, he saw Padme Harrish, who was his sister Ruth's age, running down the street chasing a soccer ball. Her brother Manny was hard on her tail.

On the other side of the street, David Jones sat on his porch. Padme and Manny claimed he was racist. Ethan thought he was just mean to everyone, but he liked Padme, so he kept his mouth shut.

They turned the corner into the back end of the U and, moments later, turned again into their own drive. Their neighbors were outside as well. It looked like they'd been doing yardwork, but they were currently standing on the corner talking to Devon.

The two women stood facing one another. One was taller, bigger and blond. She leaned on a rake as she talked. The other was shorter with dark hair. She was lean. Ethan knew her, vaguely. Her name was Holly.

Mom was watching them, her eyes dark. Dad came around from the far side of the car, gave them one disapproving glance, and went inside.

As they noticed the attention, the blonde glanced back at them. She met Mom's gaze and then, very deliberately, put her arm around the other woman and kissed her forehead. Mom grunted, a sub-vocal noise that communicated her disapproval. She turned and stomped off.

Ethan followed suit, his sisters on his heels. Inside the house, Mom was raging. "That's what's wrong with this world. Tolerating perversions like that! And now letting that kid parade around in girl's clothes. And they're surprised when terrible things start happening."

"Now don't get me wrong," Dad said as he came back from the kitchen, a beer in his hand. "I'd take the boy out back with a switch if he were my kid, and that'd be the end of that. But I don't think him dressing like a girl has anything to do with the attacks in Miami."

"They got them like that in Miami," Mom insisted. "More than one even. That's where it all went wrong. And two women . . . in public!"

"It's drugs in Miami," Dad opined. He shook his beer can at Ethan. "Don't let me catch you experimenting with any drugs."

"No, sir," Ethan said.

"Good boy." He sat on the couch and found the remote. Mom disappeared into the kitchen to make lunch.

The news was running when the TV came to life. It was a special report. "Panic grips Miami as attacks continue. As many as sixty people have been killed, and many more have been injured. Wild rumors of zombies have only worsened the situation, authorities warn, as jumpy citizens take the law into their own hands."

"This ain't nothing for kids to see," Dad said to the girls. "Get on to your room and play." They departed.

Testing the waters, Ethan stayed, plopping down in a chair. His dad didn't object; he merely picked up the remote again. "Maybe there's a ballgame or something."

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