One Foot in the Grave: An Almost Zombie Tale by Shanti Krishnamurty Read Free Book Online Page B

do?”
    It’s a good question and one I’m pretty sure I don’t have the answer to. Not yet, anyway.

Nine:
    The Hunt Begins.
    I wake up, stretching my arms high above my head. Is it tomorrow? I turn my bleary eyes to the clock and double check. Yup. It’s tomorrow. Ugh. That means the date with Daniel is tonight. As if last night’s fun with Mom wasn’t enough, now I have what I never imagined I’d have again. A date with a vampire. It’s the title of the worst campy movie ever. I sigh and roll to the edge of the bed, where I sit up and feel the glued cut on my cheek. Thankfully, it’s holding, because I’m not up for having Frankenstein screws in my face. I already feel freakish enough.
    I stumble to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. I grab my bathrobe off the back of the door, put it on, and slide my arms into the soft, fuzzy sleeves before belting it closed. The part of me that’s human longs for bacon and eggs for breakfast, or even sausage gravy with biscuits. But the zombie part demands raw piggy brains. Again. So I shuffle my way into the kitchen, awake but not functioning at 100%. Kind of zombie-like, if I do say so myself. I’m so tired of brains. I wonder if there are such things as zombie doctors…like voodoo doctors, but for the undead, and if they can help me eat ‘real’ food. After all, I’m still half human.
    “Morning, Isis!”
    My mom is just a bit too chipper for my taste. “Hi, Mom, what’re you doing up?”
    “ Trying to get back on a normal sleep schedule.” She pours herself a cup of amazing smelling coffee and a tsunami wave of jealousy washes over me. I want coffee. “Besides,” she continues, “you’ve got nothing in the ‘fridge except brains, and I’m simply not up for eating those. Ever.”
    I sigh and tie my hair into a swift knot before reaching into the ‘fridge and grabbing one of the many covered Tupperwares. I don’t blame her one bit. Sitting down at the table, I open my brains and stare into the bowl, trying to summon the energy to eat.
    “Do you want to go grocery shopping with me?”
    Ugh. I so don’t . “Ummm…not really, Mom. The smell of food kind of makes me queasy.”
    My mom makes lightning fast decisions, I’ll give her that. “Then I need to buy you your own ‘fridge; one of those dorm sized ones should work great for your bedroom.”
    “Seriously? You’ll do that?”
    “On one condition,” she says.
    I stab my fork into the plastic container and get around three squiggles of brains onto the tines. “Which is?”
    “Get off your rear and call Andrew. Get his address so we can go pay him a visit later today…tonight. I don’t want him to explode before I get a chance to kill him.”
    I love my mom. I really do. “I can’t tonight, Mom. I’ve got…a date.”
    She frowns. “All this is happening and you’re going out on a date ? Isis, what’s wrong with you?”
    “I’m half alive, but I can’t eat. I’m half dead and I’m starting to decompose. What could possibly be wrong?”
    “A lot less snip would be appreciated, young lady. Now tell me about this date. Who’s it with, where’d you meet, and when will I get to meet him?”
    “His name is Daniel, I met him at church, and I’m not sure. He’s…shy.”
    The ringing phone cuts our conversation short, for which I’m extremely grateful. Mom reaches it before I do.
    “Monroe residence, Marilinn speaking.” There’s a pause. “Yes, may I tell her who’s calling?” She holds one hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s someone named Lydia.”
    I replace my fork with the phone, wondering how she got our number. Then again, I firmly believe she’s a Salem Witch, so it was probably easy-peasy.
    “I’m heading out to the store.” Mom mouths at me. “Is there anything you need?”
    “Extra volume shampoo and conditioner.” I say. “Lots and lots of conditioner.” My hair’s becoming drier and drier. Maybe my body’s stopped producing the oils it needs to