Undead Freaks by Jesse Bastide

1

    Kelly heard the knock on the door downstairs.
She was up in the shower, massaging the shampoo into her scalp. It
smelled like oranges. She'd gotten it at Whole Foods on her Friday
trip down to Portland. The water was on a little hot for summer,
but she liked her showers on the hot side. That was just the kind
of girl she was.
    She wasn't expecting any company, but more
likely than not it was an Amazon delivery. She wasn't signed up for
the drone deliveries yet (those were crazy to think about), but
that didn't stop her from keeping the UPS guy busy with her online
shopping. Her husband Terry didn't say too much about it. Maybe it
was because she had no problem ordering that sexy French lingerie
he liked.
    Was that the secret to a long and happy
marriage?
    She wasn't sure. At least shopping online gave
her something to do when she was home. It wasn't like there was
much else to do. She and Terry didn't have a lot in the way of
outside responsibilities. They had no kids. They were single
income, but Terry was fifty percent owner in the Calvert Falls
Toyota dealership. When he bought out that old fart Norman Prince,
the place turned right the hell around; they were pulling in better
sales numbers some months than they were doing quarterly before,
and that was making life very comfortable for Kelly and
Terry.
    The only thing she'd change, if she thought
about it, was her husband's name -- Terry. His first name made him
sound like he was Asian and trying to hide it or Black or
something. There weren't any people like that in Calvert Falls and
it was a damn shame he didn't have an All-American Wonder Bread
name like she did. It would probably make sales at the dealership
even better. She'd even told him that it would be a good idea to
change it (his name), and he'd just laughed it off, like he didn't
think she was serious. Maybe that was better. If he'd known she
really wanted him to change it she might have pissed him
off.
    Terry had a temper. She accepted that as the
price of being married to him. Every marriage was a bargain, and
part of hers was that she had to deal with his temper. It had a
tendency to flare up now and then like a nasty hemorrhoid. She kept
the bruises hidden well, and he was careful never to hit her
face.
    What happened between them stayed between
them.
    She rubbed the latest tender spot. It was on
her upper arm, and the bruise was turning yellow. She tried to
remember what she'd done to piss him off for that one. It was hard
to remember, and there was a good chance he'd been drinking when
he'd done it. The yellow spot meant nothing sleeveless for a while,
which was too bad because it was warm enough to go sleeveless at
night. But she didn't think too much about the physical pain.
Bruises healed. And Terry took care of her as much as he slapped
her around once in a while. She knew the Amex he'd given her had a
fifty thousand limit on it, and he paid it off every month, no
questions asked.
    Can you imagine that? she thought. Fifty thousand a month
limit and never one bad word about the goodies I get shipped to my
door free courtesy of my Prime membership.
    Maybe it was a little excessive. Maybe she was
selling out, staying married to a guy who hit her; it was too damn
comfortable to leave him. But she didn't want to leave Terry, no
matter how she sliced it. They fought, sure, but the sex was still
dynamite (especially after a fight). Neither of them wanted kids
and she was on the pill. So no condoms to get in the way and take
all the good out of it. She liked to think she was still as tight
as she was in high school, which may have been close to the truth
given the fact that she was only twenty-seven years old and kept
herself fresh.
    She heard another knock on the door
downstairs. Maybe it was more like a pounding, when she
listened.
    She thought: if they
want a signature they'll have to come back tomorrow.
    Wham wham
wham .
    More pounding from downstairs. Now it was just
getting annoying. Whoever was