I was fifteen when the apocalypse blew up half the town, including the Five And Dime, with my mama in it. Daddy stepped up his parenting style after that. Taught me how to look out for myself and provided the tools to do it. Like the Henry Big Boy .357 magnum he gave me for my high school graduation.
And the Marlin 1894 CB that was a wedding gift a year later, three months after I set my sights on the blue-eyed white-collared red-cross worker that came out to assess our water supply sustainability.
Daddy didn’t let up once I was married either. Gave Mick and me a trunk full of zombie max ammo for the baby shower last month. Yeah, I know it seems irresponsible of me to be breeding under the circumstances, but the outbreak didn’t happen until after the fact.
The truth of it is, life with zombies wasn’t nearly as restrictive as motherhood. I took it hard, being tied down to the little tyrant, and poor Mick, he’d have done anything to appease me, short of feeding his offspring to the undead.
This morning, he surprised me by asking if I’d like to take a ride into town for supplies. I had that baby strapped in the truck faster than you can load a cartridge into an AR-15. About three miles out, we came along a broke down van, and Mick, being the kind soul he is, pulled over to help.
He was a couple yards from the vehicle when I realized we were in trouble. Before he took another step, I’d popped a bottle in Jr.’s mouth, grabbed my Glock 17 out of the diaper-bag and sited on the driver.
My sweetheart was slow to realize what was what, but soon as I opened fire, he high-tailed it towards the truck. When rotting bodies started spilling out the back of the van, I dropped the Glock and reached for the Marlin, knocking skulls back like they were ducks in an arcade game.
Soon as the truck was rolling, Mick looked over at me and Jr, concern furrowing his brow. “You two okay?”
I patted Jr’s chubby belly. “Just peachy, love? And you?”
He grinned. “Real glad to see a smile on your pretty face.”
“For a minute there I thought you were gonna let the rotguts get the best of you.”
He looked out the driver’s window. “It’d beat the hell outta living with a shell of the woman I married.”
I put my hand on his thigh, up high. “Baby, these post-partum blues been kicking my tail. But the good news is, I think shooting off some steam and protecting you and Jr. cured me.”
He pulled the e-brake and kissed me like Saturday night, tongue and all, right there in the middle of nowhere, which was how we got into this domestic mess to begin with. But god bless zombies, at least now I knew how to cure what ailed me!