Zombified (Episode 1): Wooneyville by Matt Di Spirito Page B

his lips; his body tensed; sweat beaded on his forehead.
    Dana groaned--a long, mournful sound that rolled out of her throat.
    No.  Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck --
    "Jo… Joey…" Her voice was barely audible.  "I'm fucking freez-z-z-zing."  Her lips were blue and her body shook. 
    Joey knelt down and stroked her brow.  "Okay, I'm going to carry you upstairs and get you warm."  He put his arms under her and lifted Dana off the sofa.  It was like carrying an ice sculpture.
    "Bathroom," she moaned.  "Right n-n-now."  Her stomach heaved and a foul reek came from her mouth.
    Joey detoured to the upstairs bathroom and got her at the toilet as the first wave of vomiting hit.  Dana's head was half in the toilet as green and brown puke splashed up and out of the can.  Joey stepped back, pulling his shirt collar over his nose and mouth. 
    Dana gasped, wrapping an arm around the bowl.  She sputtered and spit between breaths.  Joey stepped forward to help her get cleaned up--she retched again, barfing copious amounts of rotten-smelling brew with the texture of spoiled porridge.
    "Fuck!"  She growled in the bowl.  "I can't… I can't…" She twitched, burped, and threw up again.  "Oh God… what the fuck…" She spat and dry-heaved a few times.
    Joey took a chance and helped her up.  The smell was downright offensive.  Vomit was splashed and painted on her face, hair, neck, chest, and upper arms; it oozed over the side of the toilet and pooled on the fluffy blue carpet wrapped around the porcelain base.  The bowl was full.
    Dana was whimpering as Joey lowered her into the tub.  He stripped her clothes and started mopping her clean with a hot, damp towel.  She burped and heaved a few times, causing Joey to jump back with the towel raised like a shield. 
    "That was obscene, baby."  Joey lifted her from the tub and helped her slip into a bathrobe. 
    "Tell me about it."  She managed a weak smile.
    "I'm gonna get you to bed, then get you some water.  Okay?" 
    Dana nodded, her eyes shut, as Joey lifted her into the soft twin bed. 
    "You want some music, baby?"  With the two generators, Hank and Gigi's was a resort in this madness.  Joey put in some easy listening, tapping the repeat button.
    "Thank you," Dana whispered, brushing his face with her hand. 
    "Get some rest.  I'll put a couple bottles of water by the bed." 
    "Okee-dokee."  She was snoring softly before Joey was out the door. 
    He looked at the handle, deciding whether to lock it or not.  She seemed to turn around after hurling , he thought.  What if it's a calm before the storm?  He bit his lip, spinning the key between his fingers.  I can't risk it . 
    He locked the door.
    Joey trumped downstairs, hooking a quick turn, and descended a narrow staircase to the basement.  He walked to the far corner, approaching a massive wrought-iron safe standing in the corner.
    The dial spun and clicked.  Joey pulled the handle and swung the doors open. 
    "That's what I'm talking about!"  A boyish grin erupted on his face. 
    The cabinet bristled with rifles, shotguns, pistols, revolvers, and oodles of ammo.  Leaning in the corner, wrapped in black cloth, was a slender shape.  Joey reached in and lifted it out.  He untied a knot and let the cloth fall to the floor. 
    The cord-wrapped handle felt good.  Joey gripped it tight and slid the sword free from its polished black scabbard.  The blade caught the light and glinted.
    "You're thirsty, aren't you?"  He lifted it to eye-level and inhaled the scent of oiled metal.  Joey gave it a few swings before sliding it back into the scabbard.  He fixed the scabbard and ornate knot through his belt and returned to the toy chest.
    Joey grabbed a brown duffel bag and stuffed it with shotgun shells, 10mm rounds, and plenty of magazines.  He unclipped a shotgun from the rack and cradled it affectionately.  It took a year--even with his employee discount--to save up the cash to buy the auto-loading, 10-round