17 - Broadway Express -Fifth Car - Owen

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                Owen wondered once more if he had made a mistake. 

            Sure, he had watched all the movies and read all the zombie books that pop culture had to offer. It didn’t mean that he thought it would happen in a million years, though. I mean, who the fuck prepares themselves for the end of the god damned world?

            He takes a moment to add an aside that the Myan’s did, that they predicted something would happen in 2012. They were a few years off though, but who cares. What was three years? Maybe they just got the prime numbers wrong, or something.

            He was just about to brace himself for Kyle’s attack when a voice behind him yelled out. “Get the fuck down and, whatever you do, don’t swallow any of the blood!”

            The voice belonged to that of a large black woman. She was holding a gun that looked three foot long. She had pulled it from her purse. “Jesus lady.”

            “Ain’t no Jesus anymore.” She said. She pointed the gun at Used-to-be-Kyle and pulled the trigger without beating an eye lash. “Come on honey, you come on to Candy. She’s going to make sure you get what’s coming to you. That’s right mother fucker, that’s right.”

            Used-to-be-Kyle (he would just use Zombie Kyle from now on. Or was that too bizarre? Even more worrying was the fact that he was now correcting his own thoughts. Was he going into shock?) clicked its head towards the woman named Candy. His first thought was that the name was apt-not because she ate a lot of it but because she looked like one. She was wearing bright purple bell bottomed jeans, five inch high heels, a bright pink macramé top over a dark purple camisole. Her hear was done up in braids of multi coloured hues and they sat, like a large fun coloured tarantula. Her dreads whipped as she talked at the Zombie (there, that was better).

            “Mother fucker going to party?” Candy spat. “Party this.”

            Owen wasn’t expecting the move. Instead of pulling the trigger of the gun, she lunged forward, faster than he would have given her credit for, and stabbed the zombie in the face with a shard of glass. Zombie Kyle (okay, that just looks weird) gave a muffled croak and slid down the wall of the subway car, leaving a smear of blood on the window.

            There was a quiet moment in the subway car, just one, before the walls of the cabin started to shake. The train had hit something-that much was obvious. They had to get out, they just had to. He turned to the woman, Candy. She was putting away her gun.

            “Can’t use it too often, noise will attract them. You just gotta stay as quiet as you can and pray they don’t fucking smell you.”

            “How’d you survive all this?” Owen gestured at the carnage of the car.

            “Smeared myself with some chickenshit’s guts while they was eating some other fucker beside me. How you think I got all these blood stains on my Material Girl clothes?” She gestured to her curves and snapped her purse shut, its click like a period. “You gotta do what you gotta do? Didn’t you see that fucking show? That’s what you do right?”

            “But how did you know what they were?”

            Candy rolled her eyes. “Honey, its dead and it wants to eat you. There aren’t too many guesses. My first guess would be really pissed off postal workers, or some office terrorist or some shit, but postal guys always smell nice and office people is too polite. And why the fuck would they want to cover themselves in all that goop? Shit honey, it can only be fucking zombies. What else you think want to have you for lunch?”

            Owen was in shock. “Your logic is faulty, but oddly sound.”

            “Fuck logic honey, that ain’t got nothing to do with it. It’s all got to do with what you feel in here.” She pressed her purse to her stomach. “Not your heart. You don’t trust that in times like these. You trust what you feel here. You get what I’m saying to you?”

            Owen nodded. “I think so. I was going to fuck that guy.”

            “Good thing you didn’t honey. He’s old. How old he say he was?”

            “Thirty five.”

            Candy let out a surprising belly laugh, louder than a bullet would have been, he thought. “Fuck honey, if he’s a day over fifty I’ll eat my mother fucking hat.”

            Daring forward, she moved again with that grace that defied the shoes she was wearing. The spikes on them looked like wicked ice picks. She took Kyle’s wallet out of Kyle’s back pocket. “That’s fucking disgusting.”

            “He’s  dead, ain’t nothing he going to do. You have to learn to losen up if you’re going to stay with me. Go figure I end up with some nerdy book guy. You ever get out of your house? You ever do anything?”

            “I read a lot.” He stiffened, puffing out his chest proudly. “I’m a writer.”

            “Anything I heard of?”

            He took a moment to consider this question. “No.” He said. “Not likely.”

            “What, you think I don’t read shit like Fifty Shades of Grey? Girl can get into that shit, if you know what I’m saying.”

            “I don’t actually, I’ve never read the book.”

            “Oh, honey, turn your brain off and just read the fucker. It’s all sex and no depth, but it mother fucking rocks.”

            Owen wondered, for a third time, if he had made a mistake. “Who the fuck are you?”

            “Oh, honey. I’m your new Mama, seeing as you’re old enough to be my son. Now shut the fuck up and take my hand. I’m not letting some poor thing like you end up as food.”

            “You think I’d end up as food?”

            “Think honey? I mother fucking know it. You think reading and watching some dumb ass movies is going to prepare you for shit like this?” She let out another barrel like laugh. “Oh honey, you’re fucking funny. You ain’t never done no living.” She pointed to her chest. “I have. So you want to walk on your merry way, that’s fine with me, but I’m giving you a chance at life here. You got a choice.”

            Moving forward, closer to him, he marveled at the fact that she walked with confidence and did not slip in the blood sliding between the round impressions on the metal floor. “You either take my hand and we get off this mother fucking train, or I’m going to let them eat your sorry skinny ass. What’s it going to be?”

            Owen didn’t have to think before he took Candy’s hand in his.

            “Oh, and honey?” She grinned at him. “I was right. He has identification on him that would be given to a senior citizen. Does that make you the cradle robber or the robee?”

            She let out another barreling laugh. “C’mon honey, just fucking with you.” She winked.

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