83.
President Fremont awoke to both the sound and the sensation of a hand slapping his face. He bolted upright and looked around. The first thing he noticed was that he was sitting on the floor of the Oval Office, where he had apparently spent the night. The second thing he noted was Michelle, who was rearing back to strike him again.
"I'm awake," he blurted out.
She hit him again anyway.
"Sorry," Michelle said. "I was sort of in mid-motion and couldn't stop."
"She's lying," said a voice from behind Fremont.
He turned and saw Mona sitting on his desk. She smirked at him in contempt.
"Oops, I meant to say that Michelle wanted to be sure you were awake," Mona said.
"Yes, let's go with that," Michelle said.
"What are you two doing here?" Fremont said.
"It's the afternoon, Mr. President," Michelle said. "We figured it was time for you get up."
Fremont slumped and mumbled, "What difference does it make?"
"That's the man I married," Mona said. "Your tenacity inspires a nation."
"There is one very big reason for you to be conscious," Michelle said.
Fremont got to his feet and staggered around the office. Mona just watched him, a weary smile on her lips.
"This is your last chance to evacuate the capital," Michelle said. "A helicopter is waiting, and I strongly suggest that you and the first lady be on it."
"Are you leaving?" Fremont asked.
"Yes, Sir," Michelle said. "I have an obligation to stay alive, seeing that I'm carrying the launch codes for our nuclear arsenal."
"Like zombies need nuclear weapons," Mona said.
"You never know," Michelle said.
"Fine," Fremont said. "Get out of here. I'm staying."
"I think that is an exceptionally bad idea," Michelle said. "Horrible, in fact."
"Why would we start having good ideas now?" Mona said.
"What about you?" Michelle asked Mona. "Can I persuade you to leave with me?"
"Nope, I'm staying too," Mona said.
Fremont's expression brightened, and he rushed over to hug his wife. She pushed him away with a sneer.
"It's not for you," Mona said. "That bitch Helga Tilden called me out, and I'll be damned if I'm running away from her."
"Once again, a bad idea," Michelle said. "A hubristic decision fated for —"
"Yeah, yeah," Mona said. "Save the poetry for our eulogies. Goodbye, Michelle."
Michelle sighed and said, "I would like to say it's been an honor serving you, Sir, but let's be honest, it's pretty much been a nonstop shit-show that's going to end in your public disemboweling. Peace out."
Michelle picked up the suitcase containing the launch codes, nodded to Mona (who nodded back), and left the Oval Office.
Fremont collapsed into a chair, looking completely defeated (and still a little hung over). He glanced at Mona, who hopped off the desk and spoke to him in a mega-sarcastic tone.
"What's the matter, honey? " she said. "You scared of the little zombie wombies?"
Mona laughed as Fremont looked at her in irritation.
"This is no time for mocking, Mona," he said.
"Mocking Mona. Mocking Mona," Mona mocked. "I like the sound of that."
"Leave me in peace, woman."
"I will. Just as soon as you answer me one question."
Fremont looked up at her. She put her hands on her hips and snapped at him.
"How many women — in round numbers — have you fucked during your administration?"
Fremont gasped, then sputtered, "You want to talk about this now?"
"Better now than when we're dead and digested."
"Be reasonable, Mona. This may be our last day on Earth."
Mona turned and walked to the presidential desk. She sat down and put her feet up. Mona drummed her fingers in impatience and glared at the disheveled Fremont.
"Then let's talk," she said. "I've got all day, Mr. President."
84.
Twisney was still holding the Champagne bottle when she turned around and noticed the weirdest thing: Lenny was now a fucking zombie.
"Shit!" she screamed, which was a perfectly appropriate reaction and doubled as a warning to the others.
Lenny, teeth bared and fingers clawing, lunged at her. Twisney dodged and swung the full bottle at the charging zombie. It connected, shattering into dozens of shards and spraying perfectly good alcohol everywhere.
Lenny stumbled backward from the blow, tripping over a chair and wiping out on the floor. Twisney, Knut, and Dr. Nguyen used the head-start to get the hell out of the kitchen, and when Lenny got up to chase them, he skidded out on the spilled Champagne, landing on the floor, face-first.
But zombies don't care about physical pain, and they're immune to the social embarrassment of a comical pratfall. They just want to eat people. So Lenny got up and rushed out the door.
Knut, Twisney, and Dr. Nguyen ran for the lab's exit, with Lenny's shrieks close behind. Knut was the youngest and fastest of them, but he knew that even he could not outrun Lenny, now enhanced with super-soldier zombie abilities. They would never make it out the front door.
As they turned the corner in the hallway, Knut stopped and yelled at Twisney and Dr. Nguyen to keep running past him. They had no time to ask what he was up to, and they sprinted past the teen. Lenny turned the corner an instant later, just as Knut pulled the flamethrower from the shelf where he had casually left it.
Knut opened a volley of fire directly into Lenny's face, and the zombie screamed in annoyance. Lenny was not actually injured, just blinded by the flames, and he groped and clawed empty air in his futile effort to get Knut.
Twisney grabbed a fire extinguisher and sprayed Lenny in the eyes. This put out the fire but blinded Lenny even more effectively. Then she ducked past the furious zombie, whirled, and clocked him with the extinguisher.
Lenny stumbled to the floor, bellowing in rage, and tried to get to his feet. So Twisney hit him again — and again and again and again, until dents and pockmarks covered the metal canister.
Dr. Nguyen hit a button on the wall and shouted, "Get him in here!"
A shatterproof-glass partition slid open. This led to the room where live zombies were to be kept for lab experiments. Of course, it had never been used, because Lenny had the honor of being the first zombie to actually roam the facility's halls.
The sound of Dr. Nguyen's voice got Lenny's attention, and he got up and rushed forward. The doctor was too petrified to move, and most certainly would have become Lenny's snack, if not for Twisney leveling one more blow with the fire extinguisher, which threw Lenny off course. Knut came up behind the zombie and ran into him, full force. The hit sent Lenny tumbling into the secure room, and Dr. Nguyen hit the button to close the partition.
It took its sweet damn time closing.
Lenny spun around and leapt toward the partition, which slid shut just as he slammed into it. Lenny bounced back and roared. Lenny rammed himself repeatedly into the partition, but it held fast.
Knut was dazed on the floor, not used to engaging in brute force and shook up from his collision with the zombie. Twisney dropped the extinguisher and tried to catch her breath. And Dr. Nguyen just stared at Lenny, who continued shrieking and pounding on the clear wall that kept him from his meal.
At last, Twisney said, "What do we do with him?"
Dr. Nguyen just kept staring, and after a long moment, Knut spoke up.
"I have an idea," Knut said. "But you won't like it."