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Read Your Free Short Story from Oops! Advent 14

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Read Your Free Short Story from Oops! Tales of the Zombie Turkey Apocalypse (Click to get yours). – Happy 14th day of Advent! Enjoy my story, “In A Pickle”.

P.S. I give away free books for any reviews on this book. Just click here and send me a link to your review.

You don’t want to read your free short story? Enjoy this performance of “In A Pickle” on Youtube:

Read Your Free Short Story “In A Pickle”

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Now, what was he going to do? His boss just told him to double the productivity of Vegan Inc’s pickle strain they used for their Kilwowski Pickle brand. That was completely impossible.

But keeping his job required it. Bryce was the low man on the genetic engineering totem pole at Vegan Inc., the last one hired and the first one to be fired if another recession hit.

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t face this. So he cruised the internet.

“The origin of Zombie turkeys? I didn’t know they’d found that. Hmm, a Midley Beacon exclusive, the foremost zombie news source,” he
read to himself.

Zombie turkeys had ravaged Illinois and the US at Thanksgiving. Thankfully they hadn’t hit near Terre Haute where he lived. He skimmed the article rapidly. Corn All, one of their agribusiness rivals, had genetically modified their corn to fight off corn disease. The genetic modification would adapt to the disease at a cellular level, and neutralize it by copying the DNA from the disease organism, whether fungal or bacteria.

Part 2

When wild turkeys ate the corn, it modified the E Coli in their gut, creating the zombie turkey bacteria, e coli gallopavo. That got into the turkeys’ bloodstream and made them zombies, able to regenerate any
lost or damaged body part, even bringing turkeys back from the dead.

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What caught his eye was the reproduction rate: zombie cells reproduced every twenty minutes. Could that work for pickles? Why not try?

He read the article more carefully and found it sourced from a Dr. Edwin Galloway of the Northwestern Poultry Institute. He followed the link to Dr. Galloway’s original paper.

There it was. The whole DNA sequence of Corn-All’s modification and the zombie turkey bacteria, e coli gallopavo. Now, he just needed to get a sample. Nothing like going to the source.

He called Dr. Galloway.

“Hello? Dr. Galloway? This is Brice Butterworth with Vegan Inc.”

“Hello, Mr. Butterworth. How can I help you?”

“I read your paper on E Coli Gallopavo, and I’d like to test it on various vegetables. Could I get a sample?”

“I can send you a sample, but the bacteria only affects turkeys, not plants.”

“But Corn-all used the sequence in corn.”

“Yes, but the zombie effect only showed up in turkeys. E Coli is an animal-specific bacteria.”

“No other animals?”

“We only tested turkeys, pigs, chickens, and cows.”

“I’ll test some other animals.”

“All right. I’ll send you some of the bacteria and some of the Corn-all corn. Let me know what you find out.”

“Will do. Make it a next day shipment. Vegan Inc will pay. We’re under a time crunch.”

“I’ll ship it today.”

“Thanks so much! This may help solve a problem for me.”

Read Your Free Short Story – Part 3

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“Great! Let me know your results. Be sure to give the Poultry Institute of Northwestern credit.”

“You’ve got it. Bye.”

Brice spent the rest of the day thinking about how to get the zombie growth bacteria to grow in the pickles. Maybe he could genetically engineer them so they appeared to be turkeys to the bacteria? That
would be a kind of chimera, a hybrid, between turkey and cucumber. He went out and bought a pair of live turkeys from eTurkey, the online turkey delivery service. They too would be delivered tomorrow.

He created his project plan. He’d try to insert turkey DNA into the cucumber genome and then infect it with the zombie turkey virus. That’d double the growth rate of cucumbers, easily!

The turkeys, bacteria, and corn arrived the next morning. First, he ensured the zombie bacteria worked. He injected the bacteria into the two birds and watched their eyes turn red. That was the first sign of
zombiism.

He had already moved them from standard chickenwire pens to the Zombie Turkey Farmers of America (ZTFA) approved steel cages. They couldn’t defeat the quarter-inch steel bars, but they kept trying.

They’d peck at them until they were bloody. Then they’d pause and heal and try again. So that’s what Dr. Galloway meant when he wrote that the zombie bacteria caused increased aggression.

Using the Vegan Inc. lab’s waldo, he extracted fresh blood from turkeys and separated out fresh E Coli Galipavo bacteria. The turkeys pecked at the mechanical hands, to no avail. He injected the ECG into living cucumbers at various stages of growth. No effect.

Part 4

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No surprise. Now for the second branch of his research. Even though a cucumbers DNA was far simpler than a human’s he had thousands of sites where he might splice it in. He picked the ten likeliest and planted twenty chimera seeds.

Only half even sprouted. He tested them with the ECG bacteria. Failure. He tried ten different DNA sites each day to make his ‘turkeycumber’ as he called the chimera. After a month of failure, he gave up. He had to try something else.

Scanning the internet for inspiration, Brice read the Midley Beacon again. The headline ‘Zombie Squirrel caught on video’ leapt out at him.

He read, “The hawk nabbed the squirrel, as hawks normally do, but in midair, the squirrel revived, ripped open the hawk’s belly, bit off its leg, and fell a hundred feet to the ground, where it scampered away unharmed. It was captured on drone video.”

That’s it! He’d try some other animals and see if they’d turn zombie. First, he made a squirrelcumber. No effect. Then a cowcumber. Failure. Then a deercumber. Nothing.

Another month down the drain. His boss, Wilma O’Reilly stopped by.

“Hi Brice, how’s it going?” That meant ‘had he doubled the cucumber growth rate yet.’

“Success is just around the corner,” he lied. He knew what to say to get her off his back.

“That’s great! So you’ll have this solved in another month?” That meant she didn’t believe his lie.

“Maybe a month and a half. Or two.” He had no clue when he’d solve it.

“Fantastic! That’s a commitment to have something by June, then. Right?”

“Uh, right.” She had him nailed to a wall. He had three months to solve this and he was no closer than when he started.

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“Wonderful. When you succeed, you’ll easily pay for the money you’ve spent on the research. Oh, and by the way. If you can’t solve this problem, we’ll have to let you go in the mid-year budget cuts. But I’m sure you’ll solve it.” She smiled brightly at him and walked away.

Ugh. Now what? His mind was blank. He filled it up with social media. A tweet on a hummingbird picture led him to an article about them. Fastest metabolism of all animals. Insectivores as well as herbivores.

Huh. They were like turkeys. They were like turkeys on speed!

Why not? Brice thought. What have I got to lose—besides my job? Could he buy hummingbirds on Amazon? Nope. Not legal, since they’re migratory birds. But he could become a hummingbird rehabber.
He already had a biology degree, as well as a masters in recombinant DNA.

Brice volunteered at the nearest bird rehab center. They were delighted to have him. He nursed several birds back to health, bound broken legs and wings. He also extracted some hummingbird blood and sequenced its genome.

Bryce brought one hummingbird back to the lab instead of releasing it to the wild. He fed it Corn-all GMO grain and studied its droppings for any E Coli. Yes! It produced the zombie bacteria too, just like turkeys.

He sprayed the zombie e coli (ZEC) at the bird. Soon its eyes turned red. It rammed the birdcage, faster and faster, bending the bars. It was a zombie.

Brice extracted its blood and put it in a cage of bulletproof glass. It settled down, slurping up the nectar from the feeder, eating twice as much as usual. Higher metabolism was another sign of zombiism.

Part 6

No time to waste. He had only one week left until June. Over the next two days, he spliced the zombie hummingbird DNA into the three hundred spots he’d found on the cucumbers DNA and planted them all.

Only one came up. He injected the hummingbird’s zombie bacteria into it. It began to grow even as he watched it, flowering. He hand pollinated it and by the time he left for home, he had twelve full-grown cucumbers. Success! Brice could hardly wait for the next day.

The cucumber plant filled the lab when he got in, covered with flowers. He pollinated hundreds of them.

Then Brice pickled his twelve cucumbers. Now they just had to pass the taste test. It’d be a week before they were ready.

Brice took the brine solution and sprayed his zombie hummingbird with it. As everyone knew, five months after the zombie turkey apocalypse, salt water was the most effective way of eliminating zombiism. He watched the bird until its red eyes turned to black. Then he let it go back to the wild.

“Thanks, little guy,” he murmured.

While he waited for the pickling to complete, he picked hundreds of cucumbers. He tested their seed to ensure the hummingcumber chimera bred true. It did. The second generation grew just as fast. The rest
of them he canned in brine.


The next Monday, Brice tasted the pickles. They were a beautiful light green on the inside. They tasted heavenly, better than any pickle he’d ever tasted before.

Brice called Wilma into the lab.

“Hi, Wilma. These are the results of my research.”

“Wow! What do you have, a hundred quarts of pickles? How long did that take?”

Read Your Free Short Story Part 7

“That’s a week’s growth, from one cucumber plant. I’ve got a couple more plants growing, but we need to transplant them to a field. We’ll have to harvest them daily.”

“How? I’ve never seen anything like this!”

“I made one difficult genetic modification. I made a chimera, combining a cucumber with a hummingbird. Then I infected it with the zombie bacteria.”

“That’s insane! What made you try that?”

“I wanted the cucumbers to grow as fast as the zombies do.”

“Brilliant. You’re promoted to a senior researcher, right now.”

Brice proudly watched the fields of zombie cucumbers grow and harvested daily all that summer. If left unharvested for a day, the cucumbers would turn iridescent green, like a ruby-throated hummingbird.

These colorful vegetables became even more popular than the plain zombie hummingbird pickles.

One morning, overlooking a beautiful field of jewel-like green, Brice noticed a waving motion. Walking into the field, he saw the cucumber wriggling on the ground. The wriggling became waving, and then
flapping. Each cucumber grew a pair of flapping iridescent emerald wings.

In one motion, the entire field of cucumbers rose in a sparkling green murmuration from the ground.

With his mouth agape, Brice watched the glittering vegetable cloud head south.

After it was out of sight, Brice looked around the bedraggled field. Not one opalescent pickle remained.

“Hi Wilma, I’ve got some bad news,” he said into his phone.

“What’s that Brice?”

“The pickles have migrated south.”

“What? I have a connection problem. I thought you said, ‘the pickles have migrated south’.”

“Yes, that’s right. Apparently, the hummingbird DNA is more powerful than I thought. Their migration instinct has been spliced into the pickles.”

“You realize that field is worth over a million dollars. You’ve got to get it back.”

Part 8

“Calm down. I have a plan.”

“What’s that?”

“The pickle hummingbirds will probably instinctively migrate to Mexico, like regular hummingbirds.”

“Get going then. We need you to capture those flying pickles!”

“I’m leaving today.”

Brice arrived in Mexico City that night. He read the news and tracked the pickles by the news reports
and Instagram photos and Twitter gifs. Louisiana. Texas. Reynosa Mexico. Xalapa. Where was that? The
picture from Twitter showed iridescent pickles with wings nesting by the thousands in the trees.

He found Xalapa on the eastern side of the Mexican Rockies. He rented a truck, loaded it with the
supplies he had shipped with him, and headed there.

Brice drove to the grove of trees where the zombie cucumbers nested. He started the power washer in
the back of his truck and headed to the trees, dragging his hose. He sprayed a jet of salt water over the
cucumbers in trees, killing their zombie bacteria. They dropped to the ground by the thousands and tens
of thousands.

Brice then hired local farm workers to place them in jars filled with brine. He had enough for a whole
semi.

He didn’t catch all the escaped cucumbers, but he had enough to make up for the lost harvest.

Read Your Free Short Story – Part 9

After that, Vegan Inc prevented the pickles from developing to the winged stage. But enough escaped
Brice, that they became part of the annual pickle migration from Mexico to the US. People captured
thousands each year along the Mississippi migration route. Some people felt the wild zombie pickles
tasted better than the domestic, farm-raised ones. Vegan Inc. took advantage of this and built canning
factories in Mexico near the pickle nesting sites.

Vegan Inc. even sold their iridescent wings separately as a pickled delicacy. This became their most
profitable item. Until they dried the wings and sold them as earrings.

Author’s Comment


This story is set just after my first book Zombie Turkeys. I got the idea for flying pickles while joking with
my daughter Tori. When I picked her up to take her somewhere, I’d say, ‘Watch out for the flying pickles
as you go into the car. It’s the season for their annual migration.’ From that, we built up a whole life cycle
for flying pickles. Naturally, it had to be my short story collection.

What Did You Think of Read Your Free Short Story “In A Pickle”?

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If you like these kinds of excerpts, subscribe here, if you haven’t already.

You can get the audiobook here. My wife likes my audiobooks more. Maybe you will too.

You can get an autographed book by clicking here.

Andy Zach

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Read Paranormal Privateers Free Chapter 1 – Advent 13

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Read Paranormal Privateers Free Chapter 1 for You. – Happy 13th day of Advent! Enjoy chapter 1 of my book Paranormal Privateers. Merry Christmas to all!

P.S. I give away free books for any reviews on this book. Just click here and send me a link to your review.

Read Paranormal Privateers Free Chapter 1 –

Dirac sighed with relief when the US flag came down and the surrender flag went up on the mast of the titanic luxury yacht. He didn’t mind firing rounds from his AK-47 over their heads, but he hated killing people. He knew they were only infidels, but they were still people.

Chapter 1 – Somalia

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Inhaling the salted breeze, he grinned back at Muhammed. He cheered and laughed in his seat behind the M2 machine gun in the bow of the boat they used to patrol the coasts and fishing waters of Somalia. The sun gleamed off his white teeth.

“Look, Dirac!” he said. “They’re stopping!”

True enough. The bow wave ceased as he watched. A pod of dolphins ended their sporting on the wave and submerged. The gleaming white yacht loomed above them. What were they doing in the fishing waters of Somalia? He couldn’t imagine the wealth on board. Enough for their whole village to eat well for a year!

Their supreme leader, Omar Ogala, organized Somali fishermen and former coast guard sailors to patrol their fishing waters. He ordered them to capture any fishing or cargo vessels they spotted. He told them the Americans and Europeans no longer cared about Somalia with the other crises around the world and they could defend their coasts from foreign competition—and dumpers. Many foreign nations, knowing Somalia’s military weakness, sent cargo ships full of pollutants and dumped them into their waters.

Dirac never expected to see a luxury ship here. It was as big as a cruise liner, but apparently a private yacht. He’d seen one once before when an Arab sheik visited Mogadishu. This one was three times the size! The owner would pay big to get it back. Maybe even a billion dollars? He couldn’t imagine that much money, and he was good with numbers. Let’s see: fourteen million people lived in Somalia. Divide a billion dollars among them would give each about seventy dollars. Unbelievable. A family of five could live comfortably for a year on that!

Part 2

More Good Things
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He came along as a navigator, fighter, and boarder, guiding their boat along the shore of Somalia and into the Arabian Gulf for several days, before leading them back. Besides Muhammed and him, there was Zahi, another fighter and boarder, and Ali, their captain.

“Dirac,” Ali said, “you and Zahi board this ship and take the helm. You will follow us back to Hobyo. Muhammed and I will stay on the boat and keep the machine gun on them.”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

Ali took the megaphone they carried for ship-to-ship communication. “Let us board! Let us board! Or we will gun your ship!”

Dirac didn’t understand English, of course, but he knew what Ali was saying. Ali was the only one who knew any English.

“Don’t shoot! Give us time! We have to get our ladder!” Surprisingly, the person spoke in Arabic. Good Arabic too, but with a strange Saudi and European accent. More surprisingly, it was a woman, a blonde, from what he could see of the figure leaning over the railing far above us. He kept a close watch on her. Strictly for security purposes, of course.

They kept their boat about fifty meters away from the ship and watched the crew scurry about the many decks. Dirac counted five including the main deck, and there were at least three more decks below the main one.

Read Paranormal Privateers Free Part 3

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Finally a rope ladder unrolled from the main deck, perhaps ten meters above them. They came close to the ship. A pod of dolphins flashed under their boat. Then they leapt out of the water and into it.

Only, they weren’t the dolphins he had seen earlier. Four people in green wet suits landed with heavy thumps in Dirac’s boat. They had no breathing equipment, not even snorkels. They took off their goggles, and their eyes shone bright red in the sun.

“Zombies!” Ali cried. “Shoot them!”

Automatically, Dirac sprayed the nearest with his AK-47. He heard the others fire too. Muhammed shot the largest one with the big .50-caliber machine gun. That could cut a man in two.

Dozens of red craters appeared in the black wet suit of the one Dirac shot. But she—a white, brown-haired woman—didn’t go down. Her brows furrowed in anger, and shouting in English, she ripped the gun from his hand and threw it into the ocean. He was like a baby with a rattle taken by his parent. The other zombies did the same, except the big one. He grabbed the barrel of the machine gun in both hands and wrenched it from Muhammed. Dirac could hear the zombie’s flesh sizzle on the hot barrel. Then the big zombie bent the barrel into a right angle. Rubbing his hands together afterward, the burned skin fell on the deck of their boat. Pink skin showed on his palms.

He was enormous, bigger than two Somalis put together. His red eyes looked out of his calm, square face. The bullets from the machine gun had sliced the wet suit open across his chest, and more pink skin showed in the gap. As he watched, brown hair grew.

Part 4

George Newby
George Newby, wide-body zombie.

The fighters were all struck dumb with shock and terror. Then the woman Dirac had shot called up to the blond woman on the main deck. She yelled down in Arabic, “All of you, lie down on the deck, and you will live.”

They quickly obeyed.

Dirac heard a splash. Apparently, she’d dived into the water. She then leapt from the water and landed in their boat.

“I will direct you, and you will listen and obey,” said a tall, shapely blond woman with bright-red eyes. She asked each of their names and roles and plans for taking the yacht. She consulted briefly in English with the others. “Very well, we will follow through with your plans. Dirac and Zahi will come on board with us. Ali and Muhammed will stay in the boat, and we’ll all go to Hobyo.”

Numbly, Dirac climbed the rope ladder to the deck, following Zahi. He tried to process all he had learned in the few minutes of their aborted attack. They hijacked us. But they’re zombies!They want to follow our plan. But they’re zombies! We’re going to Hobyo. But they’re zombies! What will happen there? But they’re zombies!

He tried to remember everything he’d heard or read about zombies. They were some kind of Western fad, and then they’d become real. There had been fights with them in the US and in England. They were fast and superstrong, just as he’d seen in the last few minutes. And they regenerated. Quickly. Even from death!

Read Paranormal Privateers Free Part 5

Zahi went over the railing and onto the main deck. Dirac followed him, looking around. A crowd of people greeted them, led by the red-eyed man and the woman he had shot. They talked in English among themselves, and most held phones.

He heard a female voice behind him, the translator from the boat. She spoke in English to the crowd and then to them in Arabic.

“I’ll translate for you, but most people have English-to-Arabic translator apps on their phones. Please be patient and answer any questions we have. We have a lot to learn from you before we get to Hobyo.”

Her words barely registered as Dirac’s eyes feasted on her curvy figure under her wet suit. He tore his gaze off her figure to her eyes. They shone bright red under a broad brow, with blond eyelashes and a square chin. She could be a marble idol from a Greek temple. A zombie goddess.

“What are your plans when you get to Hobyo?” he asked.

“Why, we’ll be kidnapped and held for ransom!” She smiled.

It was the most terrifying thing Dirac had ever seen.

“My name is Sharon. Let me show you the ship and your quarters, Dirac and Zahi.”

To the aft on the main deck was a beautiful swimming pool overlooking the transom dock between the two outside hulls. Dirac marveled at the luxurious wooden paneling on the inside.

More wonders followed. They climbed marble—marble!—steps to the next deck. Many rich staterooms surrounded the enclosed atrium. Ahead was a movie theater.

“Here’s your room. You and Zahi will stay here.” She went to the adjacent room and called out in English. An adorable little dog ran to her and jumped three feet into her arms. Its eyes glowed blood red too.

Part 6

“This is Her Majesty Margaret—Maggie, for short. She’ll be your personal escort.” She grinned and spoke to the dog in English. “She only understands English, but she knows to follow you wherever you go. She’ll make sure you don’t do anything bad.”

“How?” Dirac asked.

“Watch.” Sharon went into the stateroom and came out with a meat-covered bone. It was nearly as big as the dog!

The dog sat and watched her with beady red eyes, its whole body quivering. Sharon tossed the huge bone to the dog. Before it hit the ground, the dog leapt, grabbed the meat, and with a shake of its head, ripped it from the bone. It gulped and grabbed another bite. Before Dirac’s eyes, in less than a minute it stripped the meat from the bone and began gnawing. Sharon spoke again, and it stopped.

“Maggie’s a great guard dog, but she’s the kind to bite first and ask questions later. Don’t provoke her by going into other people’s rooms, striking people, or damaging anything. Her bite is much worse than her bark.”

“Uh, will you keep her fed?” he asked.

Sharon looked at her watch. “Oh, it’s time for their feeding. Let’s watch!”

Sharon led them down to the main deck, then to a set of stairs going to the transom dock. A ten-meter boat nestled there with its catch of fish.

“Watch!” She pointed to the deck of the boat.

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The men dumped their net full of fish. A ten-foot shark wriggled out, still snapping. The fishermen gaffed it in the gills with a hook and swung it to the deck next to the dock. A howl of barking and yipping came down the stairs. Forty, fifty, a hundred of the zombie corgis attacked the thrashing shark. It didn’t thrash long. After the corgis gobbled for a minute, only a skeleton remained.

“Allah deliver us!” Zahi gasped.

Dirac never knew him to be pious, but he sounded devout, for a change.

Sharon’s red eyes glinted as she said, “I’d be really careful not to provoke Maggie. These doggies can smell blood anywhere on the ship, and they all come running. I’ve got things to do now. I’ll give you these and go.” She handed them each a phone and showed them how to use the translator app.

“Just speak Arabic into it, and out comes English. Try it.”

“Who can I ask to give us a tour?” Dirac asked.

Out came English gibberish.

“Allah akbar!” Zahi said. He still sounded devout. Maybe he was reforming. Out came “Allah, gobbly-gook.”

“Good. You’ve got it! Have fun exploring! Lunch is in an hour, on the deck above you.” She walked away.

The dog eyed them redly.

“Good doggie!” Dirac said into the translator. The English noise came out, but the dog’s watchfulness didn’t change.

* * *

I saw Sharon enter the video conference room.

“Everyone’s here now, General,” said my wife, Diane Newby, in her normal, cheery voice.

My eyes feasted upon my wife of thirty years. How far we’d come from Gary, Indiana, where I wooed and wed her!

Read Paranormal Privateers Free Part 8

General Ramon Figeroa, assistant head of the National Security Agency, looked out from the huge screen mounted on the bulkhead at one side of the conference table. We conferred daily before lunch to apprise him of developments and to receive any intelligence pertinent to our assignment. Around the table, looking at him were Diane and me on one side. We’d turned zombie three years ago, after the zombie turkey apocalypse. You can read all about it in the Midley Beacon online archives or in Andy Zach’s book Zombie Turkeys.

At the next side of the table sat our friends, Sam and Lisa Melvin, fellow zombies and owners of the Midley Beacon, the worldwide authority for all zombie news.

On the fourth side of the rich wooden table sat Lulu Gutierrez and her friend Sharon Windham. They’d become our loyal bodyguards after Diane saved their lives from sharks during a battle on this very yacht. They, in turn, saved Diane’s life. We were embedded with US Marines at the time, assaulting the last hideout of Sid Boffin, a reclusive billionaire and criminal megalomaniac. The Midley Beacon documented it all just this spring, so you’re probably familiar with the whole story. If you’ve been living on Mars and missed the story, get a copy of Andy Zach’s book My Undead Mother-in-Law. The title refers to Diane, of course. I guess that makes me, George Newby, the undead father-in-law.

Read Paranormal Privateers Free Part 9

These daily meetings had become routine since the Resolute Too‘s commissioning as a US privateer at the beginning of the year, three months ago. Our letter of marque, issued by the US Congress and signed by President Trump, hung on the conference room wall. The ship’s name came from me. I researched the history of US privateers. There was a dirigible in World War II named the Resolute. Technically, it wasn’t a privateer, but it was a privately owned craft directed by the navy to watch the West Coast for subs, so it was almost a privateer. Diane added the “Too,” and we had a name for the yacht.

I vividly remember the rechristening of the yacht, formerly named Rule Britannia, in January in New Orleans.

Diane had held the bottle of champagne at the boat dock and smashed it against the prow. The sheet covering the new name had slipped down, revealing Resolute Too—and the figurehead.

“George, is that supposed to be me?” Diane yelled in excitement.

“Of course, Diane. Can’t you see the resemblance?”

“Yes, in the face. She even has cat’s-eye glasses just like me. But she’s too buxom.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” I knew that part of her anatomy very well. The sculptor had actually made Diane’s waist narrower, which made her seem more buxom, but I hadn’t wanted to point that out.

General Figeroa interrupted my reminiscence. “You’re all looking fit and tan today.”

He usually conducted our daily meetings casually. He’d done that for the past three years we’d worked with him against Sid Boffin.

“Have we got news for you!” Diane said, enthusiastic as usual.

“Did you find Somali pirates?”

“They found us! They tried to hijack the ship, and then we hijacked them.”

Read Paranormal Privateers Free Part 10

Happy Mother's Day
Diane Newby, in her natural environment.

“How will you find the leader behind the pirates?”

That was the key question and was the reason we were here off the coast of Somalia. As privateers, we were not in the direct chain of command of the military. We reported to the president, who’d made General Figeroa his liaison to the Resolute Too.

“That’s next on the agenda,” I said. “We’re acting like they have control of the ship, and we’re following them to Hobyo, a fishing port. We’ll be there tonight. We’ll go in as their hostages and hope to get to Omar Ogala.”

“I can’t imagine anyone holding you hostage, George. Or Diane. Still, do you have a backup plan?”

“To make sure, we’re also taking Lulu and Sharon as ‘hostages.’ Meanwhile, Sam and Lisa will remain on the ship in case we need further reinforcements. They have the V-22 and our zombie animal backups.”

“That’ll do it. I assume you’ll spring free when you meet Ogala?”

“Yup.”

“When will you complete the operation?”

“We’ll be there tonight. Then we have to meet Ogala, who’ll determine our ransom and use our phones to call. That’s their usual protocol. It’ll probably be after midnight after we tie up all the loose ends.”

“Call me when you’re done, no later than tomorrow morning.”

“Will do.”

“Figeroa, out.”

Later that afternoon, Diane and I sat in our stateroom, awaiting our arrival at Hobyo. Diane knit a complex afghan for our bed. A skull and crossbones with cat’s-eye glasses and red eyes decorated it. She found knitting very relaxing.

Read Paranormal Privateers Free Part 11

I scrapbooked. I’d found out about it by reading the Scrapbook series by Jackie Gillam-Fairchild. Diane and I went to Her Majesty’s Tearoom in Dunlap, Illinois, and I saw it there. I loved saving and collecting things and organizing everything into a timeline. I found scrapbooking a great way to unwind after a hard day fighting criminals.

Into the scrapbook, I taped an AK-47 bullet, a piece of my burned skin, and a splinter that had entered my hand from the pirate’s boat. I was trying to figure out what else to add, when there was a knock on our door.

I opened it, and it was Dirac and Zahi. Dirac spoke into his phone. “Could we see your stateroom? We’re taking a tour of your ship.”

“Of course!” Diane gushed. “Here. Have some cookies!”

Diane loved baking and giving away her goodies. They each took a chocolate chip cookie, tried a nibble, and then wolfed it down.

“What is that?” Dirac asked into his phone, pointing at the scrapbook.

I explained scrapbooking to him through my phone app. Then I took a picture of him and Zahi eating cookies. I printed it out on photo paper and taped it into my book. “There. Do you see how it works?”

“That’s great! I’d like to try that!”

“Sure. I have lots of blank ones.” I gave him one, along with tape and glue, some African and sea-based stickers, and a coaster from our stateroom. It had the Jolly Roger with cat’s-eye glasses on it. “You can put anything in it. Here are some ideas.”

They thanked us and went to their room to scrapbook.

* * *

“We’re here!” Lulu Gutierrez announced from our stateroom doorway. Her dark-brown eyes gleamed with excitement.

Read Paranormal Privateers Free Part 12

I looked up from my book From Good to Great. Diane had finished knitting the paranormal Jolly Rogers bed cover and was sorting through her recipes.

I glanced at the clock: 11:00 p.m. East African time. “You ready, Diane?”

“Sure. This’ll be a new experience—the first time I’ve been held hostage! I’m eager to try it!”

We weren’t wearing our Kevlar armor, nor taking any weapons, to maintain the image of helpless hostages. We’d decided to wear just basic US clothing: jeans and T-shirts. Certainly, we hadn’t needed our armor when we took over the Somali boat.

We also put in our contact lenses that hid our red eyes. They hampered our night vision, which we’d received when we became zombies.

Sharon waited for us at the railing, as well as Dirac and Zahi. I heard the boat’s motor, smelled the warm salt air, and saw a few lights in the small fishing village a half mile away.

“Let’s go.” I descended the rope ladder.

* * *

Dirac followed the four zombies down the rope ladder, and Zahi trailed him. They’d been given AK-47s from the ship’s armory. The zombies didn’t look nearly as fearsome without their red eyes—except George. His fingers were thick as a tent stake, and he still seemed like he could break any of the Somali fighters in half with his bare hands.

Of course he could. They probably all could. Dirac had to remember that.

Zahi and he hadn’t had a chance to plan how to signal that their “hostages” were not actually hostages but were severe threats to their nation’s coast guard. He hoped Ali and Muhammed had a plan. He’d watch what Ali did.

They all assembled in the boat. Ali held an AK-47. “Zip-tie them all!” he shouted.

Read Paranormal Privateers Free Part 13

That was their normal practice. Dirac watched Ali carefully as they zip-tied the four hostages. He didn’t show fear but seemed on edge.

“Gather their phones!” They did, following their standard operating procedure with hostages.

“Ali, how will we tell the base?” Dirac whispered in his ear as they cruised to the dock. The only one he had to worry about was Sharon hearing him, and she was in the bow with the other hostages, guarded by Muhammed. They sat in the stern, ten meters away.

“Leave it to me,” he said.

He looked directly into his eyes and seemed confident. Dirac relaxed.

The other vessels in their fleet were docked there: two more ten-meter boats with machine guns and the thirty-meter “mothership” they used when they traveled far into the Arabian Gulf.

“Ho there, Ali!” yelled the dockmaster, Bashiir. “You’ve caught a big fish tonight!”

“Bigger than you know, Bashiir!” Ali called back. “We’ve got four hostages. Do you have guards ready?”

“Yeah, we’re ready for them.”

They tied to the dock and climbed onshore. Four local fishermen armed with AK-47s met them, cheering and blustering.

“Look how white they are!”

“Are they all Americans?”

“They look rich!”

“We’ll get a lot for them!”

“Quiet, all of you!” Ali commanded. “We have to take these four to Supreme Leader Ogala tonight. Get the truck.”

Once the truck pulled up to the shore, Ali directed the four prisoners, Zahi, and Muhammed into the back of the truck. I climbed into the cab and drove, and Ali sat beside me.

As soon as we were off, headed for Haradhere two hours away, I asked Ali, “What’s the plan?”

“This.” He pulled out his phone and called the supreme leader.

Read Paranormal Privateers Free Part 14

About Paranormal Privateers
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“Sir, we’ve got four rich prisoners. Millionaires, maybe billionaires… Yes, we also have their ship, a luxury yacht… We’ll be at headquarters in an hour, hour and a half… Yes, sir, I’ll do that… One more thing you should know… They’re zombies… Yes, just like the ones in the US… Superstrong and fast… We have them in zip ties, but I don’t think they’ll hold them. OK, I’ll drive there.”

“What did the supreme leader say?”

“He wants us to park in his private garage. He’ll hold them securely there.”

“I don’t know how.”

“I don’t either. But I trust our leader. He’s really smart.”

After a fast, bumpy trip to Haradhere, instead of going to the main compound, Ali drove around back to the leader’s house. It was large and heavily fortified, with an underground garage. Inside the garage, instead of the supreme leader’s luxury cars sat a metal shipping container.

The truck backed up to the open end of the container. Muhammed and Zahi pushed the hostages into the container with their rifles. The door was slammed, bolted shut, and locked with a heavy padlock.

Omar Ogala entered. A tall, burly man, he carried a grenade launcher. “I had your backs, men, in case they jumped you.” His round face and bald head showed a grim smile. “I’m proud of you for bringing them in. Zombies are no joke. Cabdi, come here.”

Cabdi, the supreme leader’s chief bodyguard, stepped up carrying a rocket launcher. It didn’t carry the normal antitank shell, but a bulkier one Dirac didn’t recognize.

“Ali, you open the feeding door, and then Cabdi will fire in.”

Read Paranormal Privateers Free Part 15

“Supreme Leader, are you going to kill them?” Dirac asked. That wasn’t their usual procedure for hostages. They kept them alive to prevent an undue military response and to maximize the ransom.

“You’re Dirac, aren’t you? No, the rocket shell won’t kill them, probably. It’s a fléchette shell with salt water, to dezombify them. Don’t worry about killing them. Worry about them staying alive and zombie.”

Ali opened the small steel door on the bottom of one side of the shipping container, used for feeding prisoners. As soon as he unlatched it, he slid it up enough for the shell to enter, and Cabdi fired.

Even outside the container, the exploding shell made Dirac’s ears ring.

“Check and see if you got them. If not, fire another shell.”

Cabdi rotated a steel disk above the feeding door and peered into the smoky darkness. He shone a flashlight in, then closed it.

“The women are gathered around the man who caught it,” he reported to Ogala.

“Fire another shell. We can’t leave any in a zombie state.”

Ali opened the door again, and again the concussion battered his ears. What was it like inside there? How could they still be alive?

“Check again.”

Peering in, Cabdi reported, “They’re all down, and they’re all bloody.”

“Good. That’ll hold them. Now let’s go to my conference room and call for ransom. You’ve got the phones, Ali?”

“Right here, Supreme Leader.”

“Whose cell will you use?”

“It doesn’t matter. They all gave the same number to call for ransom.”

“So they’re all in this together. It’ll probably be some lawyer or insurance agent of theirs. I hope they have enough insurance!” Ogala laughed.

“How much will you demand, Supreme Leader?” Dirac asked.

Read Paranormal Privateers Free Part 16

“One billion dollars—each. And another billion for the ship. How’d you like to use that to patrol our coasts, Dirac?”

“I’d love it, but we can use the money more.”

“Right you are. The people of Somalia need help. This could put us over the top and fund a full-time, official navy. That would supply thousands of jobs. We can also build an industry here.”

“Inshallah,” Dirac murmured fervently. “Let it be God’s will.”

They all settled in the conference room. “You do the call, Ali. You have the best English.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Put it on speakerphone.”

“Corporate legal office, how can I help you?”

“We have arrested George and Diane Newby, Sharon Wyndham, and Lulu Gutierrez for trespassing in Somali waters. You must pay one billion dollars for each for us to release them. For the ship, Resolute Too, you will pay another billion.”

“I don’t believe you. Put them on the phone.”

“They resisted, and we had to knock them out.”

“Fat chance. They’re zombies! You’re bluffing.”

“They’re locked in prison, and we knocked them out with salt water. You know that kills the zombie germ that regenerates them. Now, quit arguing and send the money! It must be US cash and bills of fifty dollars or less. Drop it off at Hobyo Airport.”

“It’ll take at least a day to get the money and another to fly the cash there.”

Read Paranormal Privateers Free Part 17

“We’ll keep them safe for at least two days. Don’t try any military force, or we’ll kill them immediately. We’ll burn them with napalm. Even zombies can’t take that.”

“OK! You know this much cash will weigh tons. Even using fifty-dollar bills, that’ll be a hundred million bills. That’s a hundred tons.”

“Let me check.” Turning to Omar Ogala, Ali said, “The weight of the bills is a hundred tons.”

“A hundred thousand kilos? That’s within the capacity of a 747 freighter. Tell them to hire one and land it at Aden Adde International Airport in Mogadishu. I’ll take it from there.”

Ali relayed the message in English.

“Also, tell them we’ll check all the counts, and if there is any shortage, no one is released!”

Ali also repeated that.

“This’ll take at least a week! We’ll have to get the cash and rent the plane.”

“We have time. We have plenty of saltwater to keep the zombies down. Your week begins now.” Ali hung up.

One Last Thing

Andy Zach in repose
My Undead Mother-in-law Free
Andy Zach in repose

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My Undead Mother-in-law Free Chapter 1 for You – Advent 12

My Undead Mother-in-law Free Chapter 1 for You. – Happy 12th day of Advent! Enjoy chapter 1 of my book My Undead Mother-in-law. Merry Christmas to all!

P.S. I give away free books for any reviews on this book. Just click here and send me a link to your review.

Chapter 1 – Gary

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My Undead Mother-in-law Chapter 1 Icon

“You know I love your mother. But your mother’s a zombie. Who wants to see one zombie, let alone four of them?”

“Now that’s not fair. Mom and Dad have adjusted to their zombiism very well. Mom still volunteers at church and bakes cookies and pies for the bake sales. Dad still works as an accountant at GM. There’s nothing to worry about!”

“That covers Diane and George. I know them. I guess I’m ready for them. What about your brother and this new girlfriend of his? I don’t think Don has said two whole sentences to me since I’ve known him!”

“He’d never get a word in edgewise with you, Ron. You said it yourself—you’ve had diarrhea of the mouth since you were born. He and his friend Maggie will be fine.”

“Whatever you say, Karen.” I knew when to surrender. I focused my eyes on the Indiana turnpike ahead.

“Hmmph!”

I glanced at Karen while I drove. Her arms were crossed under her breasts, and she looked out the window, away from me. Trying to make peace, I said, “I thought we dodged a bullet when the zombie turkey plague just missed Gary, Indiana[A1] . I never dreamt this zombie thing would hit our own family.” I kept my tone neutral

“So far it hasn’t hit us hard. Life goes on as usual.”

Great! At least she was still talking to me. “As great as it can with glowing red eyes,” I said with a big grin.

“Maybe. I hadn’t really thought about how hard life would be like that.”

“I have no clue what that’d be like.”

“Clueless from Toledo!”

“Clueless going to Gary.” We laughed. “Remember our rehearsal dinner?” I said.

My Undead Mother-in-law Free Chapter – Part 2

Happy Mother's Day
Diane Newby, in her natural environment.

“Sure. That was six years ago. Hard to believe.”

“Your Mom and I got along fine there. We dominated the conversation, as I recall. I hardly noticed the rest of your family. I do remember your dad impressing me with his analytical mind. Did Don even talk? He’s like a mute bivalve.”

“Yes, a little, to me.”

“Well, I don’t remember anything. ‘I only had eyes for you,'” I warbled.

“Ha! Good thing I didn’t hear you sing before I said ‘I do.'”

“I’m sure you did.”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t notice. I was too amazed I got to marry the Big Man on Campus, college graduate, and internet marketer, Ron Yardley.”

“So why did a beautiful girl like you marry a guy like me?”

“I still don’t think I’m beautiful, just average. You’re the good-looking one!”

“Thank you, but you’re wrong. You’re the good-looking one. I’m just average.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree.”

We settled into a companionable silence for ten miles or so. Then I said, “I know why I’m so reluctant to meet your family now that they’re zombies.”

“Why?”

“I did some marketing for the Midley Beacon during the turkey apocalypse last Thanksgiving and then later for author Andy Zach’s book about it, Zombie Turkeys. There were too many lot of bloody photos and videos, and I read too many gory details. I never liked the idea of pretend zombies, let alone real-life ones. I was just glad we missed it in Toledo. Now I’m in the middle of it.”

“Now, Ron, visiting my family, even if they’re zombies, doesn’t put you in the middle of another zombie apocalypse.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” That was the ultimate solution to any marital disagreement, I’d found. “What’s Don’s girlfriend’s name again?”

Part 3

maggie unsicher
My Undead Mother-in-law Free
Maggie Unsicher zombie phebotimist and video gamer

“Maggie, Maggie Unsicker. Mom said they were going to announce their engagement this weekend, for Valentine’s Day. That’s why we’re going. Remember?”

“Of course. I wonder why so few people have turned zombie? First there were zombie squirrels, then zombie rabbits, then zombie cows, and finally, a dozen people or so turned zombie.”

“None of those zombies were really numerous like the turkeys were.”

“Thank God for that! What does Maggie do anyway? Besides play video games like Don, I mean.”

“Maggie’s a phlebotomist and a lab technician at Methodist Hospital in Gary.”

“A what?”

“Phlebotomist. She takes blood samples from people and then runs lab tests on them.”

As we pulled up in Karen’s parents’ drive, I was reassured by the sheer normality of their three-bedroom suburban home: green yard partially covered with snow, evergreen bushes, two-car garage. There was no sign zombies lived there. Of course, what sign could I expect? A skull and crossbones and Beware of Zombies? Perhaps a biohazard sign?

Diane greeted us at the door. “Hello, my love!” She hugged Karen.

Karen barely flinched as she looked into her mother’s bright-red eyes. But she grunted “Ugh!” at the force of her embrace.

“Ease up, Mom.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Hello, Mom,” I said as I hugged her as hard I as could.

She hugged me back twice as hard.

“Ugh,” I grunted too.

Diane still had blond-highlighted brown hair, as she did when I first met her. She’d gained a pound or two though. She smelled of the body talc White Linen. I recognized it because Karen and I bought it for her birthday last year, pre-zombie. And she still wore her cat-eye reading glasses on a chain around her neck.

My Undead Mother-in-law Free Chapter – Part 4

George Newby
My Undead Mother-in-law Free
George Newby, wide-body zombie.

Diane seated us on the living room sofa. “Supper’s on. I have a nice pot roast for us tonight. Donnie and Maggie should be here soon. George!” she called. “The kids are here!”

A heavy tread down the stairs announced George Newby. His eyes shone red too, but while Diane was built like a middle-aged woman, George was a classic wide-body. His shoulders filled the stairway. You’d think he was a truck driver or a lineman rather than an accountant.

“Hi, Karen. Hi, Ron,” he rumbled. He hugged his daughter, as if he held a baby bird, and shook my hand without hurting me in his bratwurst fingers. His bright-red eyes looked squarely into mine.

“I’m so glad you made the trip. You can help us put to rest the ugly rumors that people with zombiism aren’t human. It’s just a disease. It’s not even harmful,” Diane enthused as she sat across from us. George sat next to her in a brown leather recliner.

“Mom, we love you. You don’t have to convince us,” I said.

“Of course not. I know that. It’s just that we’ve had people talking behind our backs at church and the public health officials trying to pressure us to get the treatment to eliminate the disease.”

“Don’t you want to get rid of it? I think the antibiotics for it are safe and effective[A2] .”

“You’d think so, but we actually have never felt better in our lives! I have more energy than ever, and so does George—right, George?”

“Yup.”

“My arthritic aches and pains have completely disappeared, and George’s old football knee injury is all better too.”

Looking out the window, George said, “Don and Maggie just pulled up.”

Part 5

My Undead Mother-in-law Free

Entering the room, Don looked like a smaller version of his dad, with the same squat build. Maggie was also short and plump and attractive in a round sort of way.

I’m glad Karen got all the good-looking genes in the family, I thought.

We sat down to dinner. Diane made the delicious pot roast with caramelized onions and mushrooms, mixed with carrots and potatoes. Seeing four pairs of shining red eyes around the table twisted my stomach around the pot roast. I wrestled my stomach into submission and tried not to think about it.

For dessert, we had a New York–style cheesecake decorated with a big heart and Be My Valentine on the top. It looked yummy, but that didn’t make me feel any better about the zombie apocalypse dinner.

“We have the two old sweethearts, me and George; the recent sweethearts, Karen and Ron; and the new sweethearts, Don and Maggie!” Diane announced enthusiastically. She divided the cake into six equal sections.

“Oh, that’s too much for me!” Karen exclaimed.

“OK, how about half?”

“That’s fine.”

Everyone else ate a big portion of cake. Diane noticed me watching her eat and said, “Our appetite has really picked up recently. We’re eating more but not gaining weight.”

“That alone gives us reason to stay zombie.” Don spoke for the first time. Becoming a powerful zombie really brought Don out of his shell. I didn’t expect him to speak at all.

“Yes, we were talking about people pressuring us to get treatment before you came.”

“Over my dead body!” Don said fiercely and then laughed at the irony.

“That’d actually be pretty hard to do,” Maggie said with a smile.

Zombie jokes arose spontaneously around the Newby’s dinner table.

My Undead Mother-in-law Free – Part 6

“And now, you two, don’t you have an announcement?” Diane gazed at Don and Maggie expectantly.

Maggie looked at Don, raising her eyebrows in question. Or maybe she meant, She’s youmother.

“What did you have in mind, Mom?” Don asked with a frown.

“Didn’t you say you’d get engaged this weekend?”

“Yeah, we talked about it, but we don’t see the point. We’re happy living together.”

“You told me you’d propose to Maggie this weekend!” Diane’s outrage crept into her voice.

“Yeah, but I changed my mind.”

“You promised!”Diane stood and yelled, “Don’t lie to your mother!”

“We’re adults.” Don stood too. “We’re allowed to change our minds. And don’t yell at me like a little kid.” Don glared at his mother.

“You’re adults, but you can’t live in adultery. If you ever want to stay in our house, you have to get married!”

“We don’t have to do anything! Let’s go, Maggie.” Don reached to take Maggie’s hand, but Diane rushed to him and grabbed his other hand.

“No, you don’t! You won’t leave until we settle this and you agree to get married!”

“Don’t be silly, Mom. You can’t stop me.” He tried to push her away, but she clung burrlike to his arm.

“Don’t make me angry!” she threatened.

Finally, with a convulsive fling, he pushed her across the room. The wallboard dented where she hit. Don looked startled by his own action.

George suddenly stood up, like a mountain rising from the sea. The chair shot out behind him, hitting the section of the dining room wall near the living room and cracking it.

“Don—” he began, firm as a stone.

My Undead Mother-in-law Free Chapter – Part 8

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Zombie corgi in Scotland from ‘My Undead Mother-in-law’

“So you want to be rough, do you?” Diane’s soft tone was far more chilling than her yelling. Every eye, red and otherwise, focused on her. Diane’s eyes narrowed.

George stopped, waiting.

“You asked for it. You’re not hurt anyway,” Don said. He sounded nervous

“You’re not too young to be spanked by your old mom!” Diane yelled and leapt [A3] across the room with a single bound and grabbed Don’s arm, the one he had pushed her with. With a bone-grinding wrench, she tore it out of its socket. Bright arterial blood jetted across the room. Using the arm as a club, she beat Don in the head with his own arm.

“You!” Thunk! The arm hit his ear.

“Will!” Crack! Don’s nose broke.

“Propose!” Splat! The skin split around the bicep of the severed arm.

“You!” Whap! The bloody bicep hit his cheek.

“Will!” Squish! The bicep splashed off his head as it burst under the force of the blow.

“Get!” Ploop! Don’s eye popped out as the humerus bone of his arm hit his face.

“Married!” Whack! His cheek split open.

“Before!” Bang! His arm bone sliced his scalp open

“You!” Shatter! Don’s teeth broke as his own elbow hit him in the mouth.

“Leave!” Crunch! Don’s throat collapsed.

“Here!” Crack! Another blow broke Don’s skull.

“Tonight!” Diane held the bloody arm threateningly, but Don lay supine on the floor.

Part 9

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Chapter 2 icon from My Undead Mother-in-law

“I’m glad that’s settled.” Diane sniffed. “Look at this mess! Let’s all pitch in and clean it up while Don grows a new arm.” Diane tossed the old arm into the kitchen trash. “The mops and rags are in the kitchen, Maggie, Ron, Karen.” No one argued.

I began breathing again as I wiped my face clean of splattered blood. It felt good to do something. After dumping Spic-n-Span into the bucket, I mopped the laminate floor. I saw Don’s arm socket had already skinned over and a new hand budded from it. As I scrubbed the blood from the floor, I watched from the corner of my eye with morbid fascination as his wrist slowly lengthened to a full-sized arm. My stomach wanted to eject my meal, but my brain felt too numb to react.

Looking up from my red-stained mop, I saw the others had cleared the table and cleaned the spots of blood from the furniture and walls using baby wipes from boxes conveniently placed in the room. George was busy spackling the wall cracks.

Diane again noticed my gaze. “Since we’ve become zombies, we’re always breaking things,” she commented. “We aren’t fully used to our new strength. I think we should buy stock in the spackling company.” She chuckled.

Looking down at her bosom, she said, “Oh my! Look at my reading glasses!” They were cracked and bloody. “That’s the second pair I’ve broken.”

“Maggie, I guess we’d better get married,” Don said as he stood, rubbing his newly grown arm. All his other injuries had vanished. He didn’t sound assertive anymore.

“It seems to be really important to your mom,” Maggie said. She made the sentence sound like an “Amen” from a tent revival.

Part 10

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Chapter 3 icon of My Undead Mother-in-law

“I’m glad that’s settled!” Diane said with a big grin. “When will it be?”

“The justice of the peace is open on Monday,” George said.

“We’ll be there,” Don said. “I’ll have to take time off work.”

“Me too,” Maggie said.

“We’ll be there too. Our family needs to be together for these important life events. How about you?” Diane asked us.

“We need to work—” I began.

“But I’m sure we can take the time off!” Karen interrupted me.

I didn’t mind.

“Wonderful! How appropriate for Valentine’s weekend!”

Somehow, we survived the rest of that evening without further incident. Later I talked with Karen as we got ready for bed downstairs, in Donald’s old room.

“So that’s a normal zombie family?”

“This never happened before! And I haven’t heard about any other human zombies having a fight like that.”

“Yeah, but that’s my mother-in-law who went berserk. Just being around them scares me.”

“She’s always had a temper, but she’s never been that violent.”

“I wonder if the zombiism causes increased violence in people? It certainly does for turkeys and squirrels. Did you read the story about the zombie squirrel killing a hawk?”

“No! What happened?”

“The hawk nabbed the squirrel, as hawks normally do, but in midair, the squirrel revived, ripped open the hawk’s belly, bit off its leg, and fell a hundred feet to the ground, where it scampered away unharmed. It was captured on drone video.”

“Oh! I begin to understand the countries that restrict US immigration and travel unless they’ve taken the anti-zombie antibiotic.”

“Well, we’re on the cutting edge of societal evolution. I don’t know where this zombie condition will go, but I can see it making big changes.”

Part 11 – My Undead Mother-in-law Free Chapter

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Chapter 4 icon of My Undead Mother-in-law

“That’s why it only exists in the US. No other nation would allow it. Here, people have freedom to be zombies.”

“Even so, some are arguing the government should force people to be treated for it.”

“What do you think, Ron? Should my parents, and Don and Maggie, be forced to be cured of it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. I’m still kind of shell shocked. Would you mind if I blogged for a while before I go to bed? That always helps me settle down and process the day’s events.”

“Of course. I know that. Good night!” We kissed.

I kept a daily blog, usually about my job and internet marketing, but also covering personal items. I wrote up the evening’s events, but I disguised the zombie family. The post was entitled, “My Dinner with a Zombie Family.” I didn’t know how people would spin it, as pro- or anti-zombie. I just knew I felt better after I finished. Finally, I relaxed and went to sleep.

* * *

The next morning Sam Melvin, investigative reporter for the print and e-newspaper the Midley Beacon, scanned through his daily internet search on “zombie turkeys,” “zombie squirrels,” “zombie rabbits,” “zombie cows,” and “zombie humans.” The blog post on a dinner with a zombie family startled him. He knew very few humans turned zombie; of those few, most took the zombie bacteria antibiotic. Almost no news at all surfaced about the few who chose to remain a zombie. He smelled a story.

Part 12 – My Undead Mother-in-law Free Chapter

“Lisa! How would you like a story on zombie humans?” Sam called to Lisa from his office to hers. Since the Midley Beacon‘s revenue had exploded through its reporting on the zombie turkey plague, they had expanded their downtown (one street) Midley office from one room to four: an office for him and Lisa (hers was bigger), a reception area for visitors, and an open area for Midley Beacon reporters.

“Don’t yell from your office!” Lisa yelled from her office. “Zombie humans? Of course, cretin! That would be worth millions of hits. You know perfectly well we’re barely scraping by at the Midley Beacon. We can’t live on zombie squirrel stories forever. Zombie humans would be ideal. But there hasn’t been any new news on them!” Lisa paused in her reflexive insulting and asked, “What d’ya got?”

“I have a blog post on a dinner with a zombie family.”

“Doesn’t sound too interesting, unless they’re eating people.”

“Nope, pot roast. However, a fight broke out between two zombies, a mother and a son.”

“Promising! Who won?”

“The mom. She tore off her son’s arm and beat him with it.”

“Ouch! I assume it grew back?”

“Yes. I think I should visit this blogger and find out about this family.”

“Of course you should! Repost the blog story and tell our readers you’ll be investigating it today. Where’s the blogger live?”

“He lives in Toledo, but he’s traveling. He didn’t say where. I think he’s hiding something, probably the identity of the family.”

“Double-plus good! Get on his good side, and get in contact with the family. Offer to pay him for hits on the blog post from the Midley site.”

Part 13 – My Undead Mother-in-law Free

My Undead Mother-in-law Chapter 5 icon
My Undead Mother-in-law Chapter 5 icon

“I’m on it!” Sam emailed Ronald Yardley and then did a search for his cell phone number. Quickly finding it, he called him.

“Hello, this is Sam Melvin of the Midley Beacon. Is this Ronald Yardley?”

“Yes. Call me Ron. Why are you calling?”

“I read your blog post this morning and found it very newsworthy. We’d like to pay you to post it on our website. We’ll pay you for each view it gets.”

“I’m surprised it got a reaction so fast! Your offer sounds good, but what’s the catch?”

“No catch. We want to build good relationships with key news sources like yourself. There’s very little news about people with the zombie disease. Where does this zombie family live?”

“Um, I think I have to protect their privacy.”

“OK, but can I at least interview you?”

“Me? I guess so. When would you want to meet?”

“Today.”

“Um, we’re on vacation right now.”

“I will gladly pay you for the interview.”

“Let me check with my wife and get back with you.”

“That’s fine. You can call me at this number, my private cell, or our turkey hotline, 1-800-Z-TURKEY. Or you can email me. Or text me.”

“OK. I’ll give you an answer today. Bye.”

“Lisa!” Sam called again.

“Lout! That’s not very professional, calling from one office to another,” she complained from her office.

“Sorry,” he said as he walked into her office. There was no one else in the room, but after four months of marriage, he’d learned to keep his mouth shut. “I’ve got Ron’s story posted on the Midley site, and I’m waiting to hear back from him about the interview today. He is hiding the identity of the zombie family.”

Part 14 – My Undead Mother-in-law Free Chapter

“Great! I assume you’ll be able to interview this family if you promise to protect their privacy. I also assume you’ll find out the identity of this family and interview them directly.” Lisa looked directly at him.

“Of course.” With Lisa, it was always safe to agree.

Sam’s phone rang. “Hi, Ron… That’s great! Let me write down the address… I’ll see you at three p.m.! Bye.”

“Where is he?”

“Gary, Indiana. I can be there in three hours.”

“One hour if you take the plane.”

“I forgot about that! I’ll call Dan Cosana now.” Sam called the Midley Beacon’s pilot, and they agreed to meet at the local county airport in half an hour. Sam arranged for a rental car at the Gary International Airport.

Two hours later Sam headed in the rental car toward his meeting with Ron Yardley, at a local coffee shop.

“Hi, you must be Ron.” Sam recognized him from the description he gave over the phone and from his pictures on his blog: tall, slim, in his late twenties, in an Abercrombie & Fitch sweatshirt. Sam supposed women would think he was good looking.

“Yes. Are you the Sam Melvin? Of the Midley Beacon? I’ve read some of your stories on the zombie turkey crisis. I love how you marketedthe Midley Beacon! I’m glad to meet you!”

Sam basked in Ron’s enthusiastic greeting. He and Lisa had gotten a lot of adulation since the zombie turkey story broke, but Ron seemed sincere, if a little overpowering.

“Thank you, Ron. I’m eager to meet you too. Your blog post had the first details I’ve seen about zombiism in humans. The nation and the world are starving for details on this condition. All the stories I have read dealt with it occurring and people being treated.”

Part 15 – My Undead Mother-in-law Free

“First of all, I have to have your promise to keep all details private. Hide the city and anything else that might violate these people’s privacy.”

“Of course. I happened to bring along the contract for our interview. It contains a clause on privacy protection.”

“Hmm.” Ron read the contract. “A thousand dollars? For the interview?”

“And another thousand for an interview with the zombie family.”

“I’ll have to check with them.”

“Of course. Do you think the privacy clause will protect their anonymity?”

“Looks like it. OK, I’ll sign it.” After that formality, Ron said, “Go ahead!”

“Let’s begin at the beginning. When did you hear about this zombie family?”

“Soon after they turned. My wife and I know them.”

“Who else knows they’re zombies?”

“I guess their church and workplaces.”

“Doesn’t it get awkward with the bright-red eyes?”

“They’ve taken to wearing dark glasses. Everyone just thinks they’ve suddenly become fashionable.”

“Have they experienced much pressure to take the antibiotic?”

“Yes, they have been pushed to take it, from work and church and the local health officials.”

“Why haven’t they taken it?”

“The older couple is in their late forties, and since they’ve become zombies, they’ve never felt better in their lives. The younger couple likes the enhanced strength and weight loss.”

Part 16 – My Undead Mother-in-law Free Chapter

“Have they noticed any other differences in being zombies?”

“They eat more. I have noticed they all have a lot more energy, a lot more boldness and aggressiveness, I guess.”

“Any personality changes?”

“Everything just seems enhanced. When they get angry, they get really angry. When they’re happy, they’re really happy.”

“Have there been any other violent scenes like the one you blogged about?”

“No. That was a stunner to me.”

“OK, that should be enough for now. I have a lot of questions about your relationship to them, what they do for work, how their lives have changed, but those’ll wait until I meet them. When can I meet them?”

“I’ll talk to them tonight and let you know.”

“See you, Ron. Thanks a lot. When I write the story, I won’t tell what city we’re in. I’ll just say, ‘a certain Midwest city.'”

“That sounds good. I’ll call you tonight.”

Later that evening, while Sam was eating a steak dinner at the hotel restaurant, Ron called.

“Hi, Sam.”

“Hi, Ron.”

“I read your story on the Midley Beacon. It was good to see my name in there. Thanks for linking to my blog. My blog hits have more than doubled!”

“Sure thing.”

“Good news. The zombie family has agreed to be interviewed tomorrow. They’ll have you over for lunch at noon.”

“I’ll be there!”

One Last Thing

Andy Zach in repose
Andy Zach in repose

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Andy Zach