Page 93 of 10 Things I Hate About Zombies

‘Here. For Dermott. Just in case.’

He passed the syringe to Beryl, then reached into his pocket for another.

‘Now if you don’t mind, I have to find the love of my life.’

This was more easily said than done.

The Zombie Shuffle hordes had spread from Belmont to the surrounding residential streets, and Nick and Alice had their work cut out identifying and disarming the real zombies. Not only that, but Reba and the others had all split up, disappearing into the thronging crowd – Nick could no longer make out Reba’s bright kaftan or Gracie’s tall silhouette.

‘Brains,’ hissed someone in Nick’s ear. Whirling, Nick gave them a jab.

‘Ow!’ shrieked his victim. ‘What the fuck, man?’

Nick held up his hands in apology. ‘Sorry.’

‘You’re that guy who puts needles in candy bars during Halloween, aren’t you? Hey, come back!’

‘You’ll thank me later,’ called Nick.

Dodging away from the furious but now zombie-inoculated guy, Nick raced through the shambolic crowds, trying to spot the tiny Zoey among the green-tinged skin and torn outfits. Some of the shufflers carried placards featuring brain-themed puns, while others had boomboxes and were attempting a rather terrible shuffle in the hopes of going viral. There were also several people dressed as sunflowers and peashooters, which the casual video gamer in Nick appreciated.

No Zoey.

No Zoey.

Where would she be? He’d checked all the obvious places. He tried to think back over their date spots – where had she particularly loved? It had to be close, because if last night was any indication, she was certainly in no state to drive. Or even take the MAX or the bus.

Then it struck him: Laurelhurst Park. The site of their first date, where she’d burst out laughing watching Alice climb a tree. Where she’d clapped her hands over her mouth when Nick had pretended that yoinking turtles out of the water was one of his favourite hobbies. Where she’d named half the trees and had a favourite bench for eating ice-cream on. Where she’d almost (but not quite) joined in with a silent disco.

‘C’mon, girl,’ Nick said, jogging back through the zombie hordes, going against traffic for once, vegan-ink tattoo pen at the ready. He’d deal with the others later, but first, he had to make sure Zoey was all right.

The park felt the way it always did: like a deep breath of calm. The huge trees seemed to bow down, hugging him as he strode along the tranquil paths in search of Zoey. A few joggers gave him a wide berth – unusual for Nick, who usually invited friendly waves and chitchat.

But then he remembered he was carrying a cross-body sharps container and was brandishing an ink-filled syringe. Fair.

‘Braiiiins,’ came a groan behind him, and Nick whirled around, needle at the ready.

This was a skinny middle-aged woman in head-to-toe designer athleisure – definitely part of Zoey’s smoothie-chugging demographic.

‘Sorry, but I’ll be quick.’ Nick sprang forward, jabbing her in a scrawny arm.

The woman hissed, clutching a sinewy bicep as she shrank backwards off the path in her Hermès sneakers. (Apparently Hermès made sneakers – who knew.)

‘Oh God,’ she said momentarily. ‘What happened to my manicure? I can’t be out in public like this! What if my ex sees?’

She fled down the path, swearing as her $1,200 sneakers splashed in a sprinkler puddle.

Nick slipped the syringe in his sharps box and prepared another.

‘C’mon, babe,’ he murmured as he turned down a crunching fork in the path.

Alice was the one who found her in the end. Nose twitching, ears back, she began whining as Nick approached the copse of trees home to the wonky one she most loved to climb.

Alice raced off towards the thicket, then balked, trotting back to Nick as though she’d been stung. She stood there, midway between Nick and the trees, whining anxiously as she took a step towards him, then towards the trees, then back again.

There she was.

Zoey was hunched on the ground, arms around Romero, back pressed up to the bench closest to the angled tree that Alice was so good at climbing. The tree with the strange boule that local artists would fill with miniature sculptures and scenes: rubber ducks floating on a cellophane pond, a fairy house populated with tiny gnomes, an arrangement of resin cupcakes.