It should have been an easy trip back but with a zombie in the backseat all bets are off!
B: Zeb do you need to stop and stretch or use the restroom?
Z: No poo. No pee. No stretch.
B: Well, I need to stop at the next rest area to use the bathroom. Will you be okay in the car?
We stop. A quick in an out is all I needed. To much coffee to drink. Was it that simple? OF COURSE NOT! I came out of the building and see some old woman screaming about her dog. Great. This can only mean one thing.
I look in the car and Zeb is seated in the back as calm as could be. Nothing out of place at all. Definitely not what I was expecting.
B: Zeb, did you leave the car?
B: Did you undo your seatbelt? (I’m trying to get specific)
I turn to look at his decayed face thinking I could pick up any sign of him lying to me.
B: What happened to the dog?
Z: Ate him. Asked about stretching and restroom, not eating. Opened door. Went for leg. I grab and eat.
B: Oh, crap! Where is the blood?
Z: Small dog. No mess.
My head whipped around and slammed into the airbag portion of the steering wheel in disbelief. Started the car, threw it in reverse, backed up and then got the heck out of Dodge.
Z: Eat dog, bad?
B: Well….You have to eat. I just don’t know what to feed you.
Z: Don’t need human. Prefer human. But animal work.
Great. I have a zombie who wants to work in a Chinese Restaurant. Perfect. What the heck am I supposed to feed him?
B: Can you eat mice?
Z: Need lots
Pet store here I come. I can give him feeder mice and rats for a snake! This might work. Well, only if my wife doesn’t find out!