A Working Relationship

Diary

......and this is just day one.........dang

I've boarded up all doors and windows. This house was dark to begin with but now it looks like perpetual midnight.

I can hear Miranda throwing her body against the spare bedroom wall. Muffled shrieks.

I managed to locate the wall studs so as to anchor the chains that secure her arms and legs. I've also wrapped half a roll of duct tape around her head in order to cover her mouth.

I'm sitting here in the living room cloaked in darkness, sucking down a bottle of gin and attempting to process the insanity of the day. Retracing and reenacting the series of bizarre events....

As Miranda and I pulled into the car park at Walmart nothing appeared to be out of the norm. . The number of homeless folks ambling about were slightly greater than usual but other than that....nada.

The Walmart greeter was asleep on a bench seat, two deli servers were in the throes of a passionate somewhat aggressive embrace, an overweight woman on a motorized buggy was being pursued by about a dozen angry, wild eyed shoppers and there was a huge clean up on aisle six.

Just another day at Wallyworld really.

Whilst at the auto checkout we noticed a cashier throwing up green bile over a distraught toddler. Neither Miranda or I even remotely liked children so we had bit of a chuckle, bagged our groceries and left.

As we walked out of the store we noticed the greeter now wide awake and on top of an emo kid chewing on a mouth full of the kid's face. This was totally hardcore and unnecessary. Even during the Black Friday sales we'd never witnessed anything like that. .....dang.

We quickened our pace.

As we reached the outside I noticed that the number of homeless folks had grown dramatically. They were starting to mill around us in a menacing manner. I grabbed the plastic shopping bag with the glass Perrier bottles and began swinging it about at them creating a small gap in the crowd.

I clutched Miranda's trembling hand and dragged her through the opening.

We busted out into the open unscathed and fanged it back to the Jeep.

I hit the keyless entry button and jumped in. From my vantage point I couldn't locate Miranda so I slid across and quickly opened the passenger side door. She was on the ground being mauled by an elderly woman dressed in bloody denim coveralls. Rednecks....

Reacting fast I reached back for the Perrier bottle and bought it down on the old woman's head shattering the glass. She turned around to face me with hostile yellow eyes and Miranda's blood smeared across her face.

As she lunged towards me I took the broken stem of the bottle, still in my hand and plunged it into her eye. She fell back and hit the concrete........dang.

I got out of the Jeep, collected Miranda, threw her into the passenger seat and floored it.

Miranda and I had been together for nearly four years. I wouldn't say we were in love, more like companions who ticked a few boxes on each other's wish lists.

We were both basically self possessed people who had little time for anyone but ourselves. I worked around her aberrations as she did with mine and out of that we had managed to fashion some kind of working relationship. The only real bummer was the sex. Sex with Miranda was akin to a medical procedure with me as the intern and her as the resident barking out orders and constantly correcting my mistakes.

It was a trade off, but hey, from my experiences most relationships are to some extent.... thats why God created internet porn.

Miranda was passed out in the passenger seat. She had a large gaping neck wound that was oozing congealed blood. I grabbed some napkins from the glovebox and wiped off the muck from the leather upholstery and dashboard then pressed the napkins against her neck to stem the flow.

The radio was blaring out the news and issuing orders. Zombies......stock up.........secure the premises........stay inside........tune in for updates.......Dang.

The drive home was like an surreal obstacle course. Cars and bodies littered the streets and sidewalks. hydrants spraying, fires blazing, total apocalyptic madness.

The front of our house was unaccessible due to the swarm of undead so I drove around to the back laneway. As luck would have it, it was clear except for Mr. Willis chowing down on the neighbor's cat.........dang.

I hoisted Miranda over the five foot picket fence and heard her body thud onto a garden bed.

Jumping over I threw her on my shoulder and gunned it to the back door.

On e inside I found an old sheet and laid it across the jacquard sofa then put her down. After cleaning the trail of blood off the black butt hardwood floor, I started a pot of expresso, changed my bloody tee shirt and sat beside her waiting for the coffee to brew.

She looked more peaceful than I had ever seen her. The blood flow seemed to have abated.

Only problem was she was now stone cold dead.........Dang.

The news report had advised that once a body became infected from a bite it entered into an incubation period where the virus would run a course and reactivate the host into a hostile, undead killing machine that nourished itself on anything with a pulse........or not.

I decided to get cracking before she turned. I squared her skinny ass away in the spare bedroom and bound her in chains, secured the house, put Bon Ivor on the stereo and kicked back with a relaxing cup of java and a joint.

I drifted off to sleep.........

I woke a couple of hours later to thumping sounds and shrieking coming from the spare bedroom.............Miranda the undead.

Her head bolted upright as I entered the room. Yellow maniacal eyes stared at me as she pushed her body out from the wall. She screamed and shrieked like a banshee spitting blood at the carpet. This was not OK Miranda.

I shuffled about my workbench drawer and found the gray duct tape. Armed with both that and a wet, soapy sponge I taped up her mouth and cleaned off the blood from the carpet, then retreated back downstairs.

So here I sit, reeling from the chaos and horror of the day. My head clouded by alcohol and stress, trying to get a fix on what to do next. I mean, given the circumstances what is there to do?

Then the thought occurs. I have Miranda chained to a wall with duct tape around her mouth. Other than being dead she is still a very attractive woman. The effects of the alcohol were creating a familiar stirring in me.

I stumbled to the bathroom cabinet in search of KY and a condom.

Don't judge me..........I'm suffering from shock and in need of repair. This has been a very strange day which is about to get a hell of a lot stranger.........Dang.