Zombies Don't Dance
an excerpt

“God, this is so embarrassing. This has never happened to me before…….I should have never taken that ‘lude”

With these words, in a matter of seconds, the lean, tough, sophisticated, tattooed punk, whom she had picked up 15 minutes ago at the New Wave Lounge, transformed into a skinny, vulnerable 20 year old kid with big, blue eyes. He even had a cute sprinkling of freckles on his nose.

A few moments ago, Susan had been eagerly shedding her clothes in anticipation of some sweaty, mindless sex with a hot stranger with a Mohawk haircut. Now suddenly the guy’s embarrassment over his equipment failure created an uncomfortable intimacy.

“Maybe, I should go,” she offered as she grabbed her t-shirt. Accepting his apologies, Susan was redressed in her Monday night dance clothes, straight leg purple jeans and unfortunately, her favorite t-shirt, proudly emblazoned with the Stiff Records log, “If it ain’t Stiff, it ain’t worth a fuck.”

“Hey, maybe, we can try this again sometime, Jason the punk called out. “You are really hot and I would like to get together with you,”
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Right on the beach, the New Wave Lounge was the only decent dance club in Ft. Lauderdale. It played punk and new wave music. It was open six nights a week and Susan danced her heart out on the dance floor on each of those six nights. The biggest night was Saturday night and the dance floor was packed. This night, a bunch of preppie types from Palm Beach were slumming at the club. One frat boy was wearing a pink Izod shirt with a sweater tied around his neck. Puke-ola. He was dancing in a self conscious cool style to Clash’s London Calling.

Susan and her friends were dancing hard and the sweat was pouring off their bodies. Susan had dressed up, wearing a short, tight spandex dress in neon green. On her feet, she wore bright pink high top sneakers. She wore big, big neon green earrings. Tonight, she had teased her blonde hair and sprayed it heavy duty aquanet. The black tips were definitely a fashion statement.

Katie was over the top, wearing torn fishnet stockings, high heels, and an old vintage 50s swimsuit. The bodice of the swimsuit was lined with some stiff, crunchy material so it stuck out. Before going out to the club, Katie had laughingly stuffed it with toilet paper, making her small breasts stick out. Katie was totally playing the role of vixen, strutting and posing with one hand on her hip. Susan and Paulie were laughing their asses off. Pleased at their reaction, Katie pulled out some of the toilet paper and made a show of blowing her nose.

In the midst of this joviality, out of the corner of her eye, Susan saw someone that she really did not want to meet face to face. Jason the punk was stumbling around the bar. The guy was really wasted and it was only midnight. Quickly, she turned away. Maybe he would have the good sense to avoid her.

Screams came from behind. Susan turned to see the frat boy screaming. Jason the punk had grabbed him around the neck. Oh, my gosh, Jason was biting the guy on the shoulder. Susan could see the blood. One of the bouncers was tried to stop the attack. Jason turned around and started biting the huge bouncer. Now the bouncer was screaming and bleeding. The bleeding frat boy ran screaming toward the front doors. A bunch of clubbers started to rush toward the doors. Jason had seemed dangerous, but this was crazy.

“He must be on PCP,” screamed Katie over the crowd. “I heard that it makes you crazy.”
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“If Ivan is spooked than I am most definitely spooked,” Paulie stated.

Midway through the lot, the foursome stopped. Two men blocked their way to the car. They were dressed like businessmen with polyester suits, wide ties, and dress shoes. They were both middle aged; one guy had an elaborate comb over in a vain attempt to hide his balding head. No doubt, middle age business men were a scary sight under any circumstances, but these guys smelled like dead things and they had an all too familiar lurch to their steps.

“Let’s head back to the club,” Paulie urged.

But when they turned, there was another pair of businessmen zombies.

Paulie handed the keys to Susan.

“While I distract these guys, you run to the car.”

“Paulie, I am not leaving you,” insisted Jill.

“Just go,” Paulie said.

With those words, he ran toward the two zombies blocking their path. With a flying leap, he kicked the guy with the comb over down. The girls looked at each other. Then with a cry, they ran toward the other zombie who was grabbing Paulie from behind.
Katie and Jill reached the zombie first. They grabbed the zombie and pulled him off Paulie.

The zombie grabbed Jill by the throat. Katie jerked ineffectually on his hair. Remembering a self defense class, Susan kicked the zombie in side of the knee. There was a sickening crack and the zombie lurched. But it kept its grip on Jill. Paulie was busy fighting the zombie with the comb over who was getting up.

Jill grabbed the zombie by the arm and threw him into a car. Then she ran over to the zombie attacking Paulie. She jumped on its back and grabbed it around the neck. In the meanwhile, the other two zombies were fast approaching. The zombie, who had been thrown into the car, was getting back up.