From Darkness Comes: The Horror Box Set by Scott Nicholson, J. Thorn, Tw Brown, Kealan Patrick Burke, Michaelbrent Collings, Mainak Dhar, Brian James Freeman, Glynn James Page B

having to explain my jokes to people. They stop being a joke the moment that you have to explain them. From that point, they become a story problem.
    “Are you there, Ava?”
    Something about her voice bothered me more than normal. In fact, all I felt now was irritated by her existence.
    “Get to the point, Adrianna,” I snapped. After all, she called me for crying out loud.
    “Doesn’t anybody keep their legs closed in this morally co rrupt society?”
    “Having a hard time finding the virgin you need to make your unstoppable zombie horde?” I didn’t bother hiding my sa rcasm. In fact, if I may say so, I heaped on extra portions. I was having a crappy day, and it was largely in part to having encountered Adrianna.
    “Well… yes,” she said. After a really long pause, she continued. “But I believe the answer to my problems just showed up.”
    “What do you mean?”
    But that question was lost to the phone line. She had hung up on me. How incredibly rude. Hmm, that reminds me, I wonder whatever happened to that girl from Full House . Everybody from that show still shows up from time to time…the anorexia twins never seem to go away…and Bob Saget. How did they ever become relevant? But that one girl with the cute little catch phrase. Once per episode, like it or not, she would spout, “How rude!” I wonder if people still ask her to say that like they used to bother that little Gary Coleman about that “What choo talkin’ ‘bout, Willis?” line. Do you think she ever wanted to climb into a clock tower and start picking off citizens?
    Now I can’t stop laughing. That’s just great. I have a so-called Queen of the Zombies to nab, and all I can think of is the girl from Full House sitting on a ledge with a high-powered rifle, peeking through the scope as she slams another round into the chamber and pulls the trigger while screaming, “How rude!” What makes it even funnier is the fact that she stuffs a Twinkie into her mouth between each shot.
    You know? I really do have an overactive imagination. These days, they call it ADD or ADHD. When I was little, they just said “Little Ava is a ‘creative spirit’ that needs to focus more on schoolwork and less on her magical world.”
    I went into my living room. It was still a few hours before the sun would go down. I had a few things I wanted to take care of before I drove out to Estacada to deal with that snotty little Queen of the Zombies. Great…now I am hearing an orchestra playing this dark little tune, “duh, duh, DUHHHHHH!” every time I think about her.
    I may not have Lisa, but I am not some helpless damsel in distress. I have switchblade fingers and toes…and good old sharkmouth. All I’d seen from Adrianna was the ability to smell yummy and make me forget. Anybody who knows me at all can testify that that last trait is no big accomplishment.
     

 
    9
    Do You Really Want To Hurt Me
     
    I hate surprises. Well, let me clarify that. If it is a set of d iamond earrings, I love those. I’ve never been a flowers and candy sort of girl. Flowers die, and candy made me have to do ridiculous things like sit ups…and the most useless of all exercises: Jumping Jacks. Seriously, what the hell is Jack’s problem? Let’s totally take the part out of the equation where no sports bra that I’d ever found managed to keep the puppies in place. All a Jumping Jack does is let you feel which parts of you are jiggling more than they should. Basically…I hate Jumping Jacks.
    But back to surprises.
    Sitting on the hood of my brand new Corvette was a guy. You might be wondering if he was cute. Sure. He has a certain Brad Pitt thing working with his little bit of scruff and his sparkling eyes, but I think I may need to reiterate something. He. Was. Sitting. On. My. Corvette.
    “You must be Ava,” he said this like his butt was not leaving an imprint on the sweet, red paint of the hood of my Corvette.
    “You must be—” And that was when the smell hit me.