Anything But Zombies by Gerald Rice Page B

would just have you cut its throat, but this is a special sacrifice so you’ll need to remove its heart while it’s still beating. Just aim for the lungs and we’ll remove it from the abdomen.” Her hands were sweaty and her breath had a sweet but rotten smell. She was pushing his hands down toward the dog gently but with increasing force.
    Jonah couldn’t believe it. His life up to this point had been as uneventful as any American with middling ambitions. He’d been with Burgeropolis since he was sixteen, first tending grill and then lunch prep, moving on to the drive-thru next. He’d earned his crew chief hat and pin and worked hard in their management program. He knew one day he’d have his own store and then it was just a matter of time before he could own two or three as a franchisee. He could see all of it and it was a good life, like the one with his mother. Even now as he stole glances at the woman with the rueful grin trying to get him to murder a dog he’d only just met, he couldn’t fathom what the heck was going on.
    Jonah gave his mother a shove and she went sprawling. Tall tapered candles wobbled and fell to the floor, catching her apron on fire. She screamed and batted at the flames with the towel tucked into the pocket of the housecoat she always wore.
    Jonah whirled on the crowd of his employees. He waved and jabbed the knife at them trying to get them to just back off and give him some air. “I don’t understand what’s happening,” he said. Stinging sweat began to drip into his eyes and he wiped it away with an equally sweaty arm. His fellow employees, those trusted souls he considered his A-crew, stood in mute shock; Chrissy had already taken a bite of her loaf and her mouth was streaked with a thick liquid that looked both black and red in the candlelight.
    â€œAll the signs are there,” said Chrissy, and as she spoke the masticated bread fell from her mouth. “It’s time for you to take your rightful place and we are here to witness your Ascension.” Chrissy looked at Jonah’s mother. “You were supposed to prepare him for this.”
    â€œI’m not his mother, I’m the damned babysitter!”
    Jonah realized he didn’t know (or couldn’t remember) her name. He’d never seen it on a check or a bill and it had never come up. Worse, it never occurred to him to ask. He didn’t know how that happened, but there it was. She was always just there and always answered to “Mom.” His mother began to yell, and spittle was thick at the corners of her mouth. “Do you see what I have to work with? He’s always talking about that damned store! How am I supposed to prepare for his Ascension with that nonsense?”
    â€œMy what ?” screamed Jonah and his confusion grew thicker in the heat.
    His mother picked herself up from the floor. Her housecoat was burnt away in places revealing the remnants of a charred bra and wrinkled, saggy breasts already blistering from the burns. She was angry in a way Jonah had never seen before, and her usually round pleasant face was twisted into a cruel grimace. She looked like she’d eaten something sour and mealy and pointed a rebuking finger at him. “You take your place at your Father’s side this instant. He’s waiting for you and has prepared your Ascension in His own Way.” The dog on the table raised his head and huffed in exasperation.
    The woman leaped at Jonah, reaching for the knife, but he dodged her easily. Neither were trim or fit individuals, both having indulged in her specialty of meat pies and baked goods, but his time at the store lifting boxes of frozen meat and shifting racks and racks of buns gave him more muscle.
    His crew was chanting again. “Prepare the Way. Open the Gate. Bring the Fire.” It became harder and harder for Jonah to think and breathe.
    He saw his opening between Bethany and Chrissy, who had