Your Gift Chapter 1 of Zombie Detective – I’m sharing chapter 1 of my book Zombie Detective for Advent 11. Merry Christmas to all! Enjoy!
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 – Laid Off
“Sam, you’re fired.” Lisa’s green eyes met Sam’s brown ones.
“What? Lisa, you and I have worked together at the Midley Beacon for ten years! And we’ve known each other for fifteen! And we’ve been married almost two months!” Sam broke eye contact, stood up from his desk, and paced about their small office.
“Sorry, Sam. Romance has to take a backseat to finances. Ever since the bottom dropped out of the zombie turkey news market since the first of the year, the Midley Beacon hasn’t made enough to pay your salary.”
“But that’s our salary. We share and share alike.”
“We can still live on my salary. And you can apply for unemployment now that you’re fired.”
“But what’ll I do all day? I can only play Fortnite for so long.”
“What did you do before I hired you ten years ago? What did you do while I was in college?”
“Uh, mow lawns. Handyman repair. Stuff like that. But I’m a grown man now. I want more.”
“Hmm, you are a decent reporter.”
“Thanks, Lisa. That’s high praise coming from you.”
“Well, it’s the truth. You’ve grown from a crappy reporter, like ninety-nine percent of all reporters, to well above average. I did lay off everyone else on the staff before you, you know.”
Sam’s eyes misted. “Aw, you’re making me feel warm and mushy.”
“
Your Gift Chapter 1 – Part 2
From my novel Zombie Detective, by Andy Zach
“That’s part of good management—emotional manipulation.”
“Uh, you mean you don’t mean it?”
“Nah, I mean it. Emotional manipulation is much more effective if you’re sincere. Say, why don’t you call Andy Zach and see if he has some royalties to share. We signed a contract with him to get half the royalties from his book Zombie Turkeys. We supplied more than half his source material right from the pages of the Midley Beacon.”
Sam shook his head. “I just called him yesterday. His sales haven’t paid for the cover yet, let alone the editing.”
“I told him to go with traditional publishing!” Lisa scowled.
“He’d still be trying to get an agent, let alone publishing his book. Who wants to represent a zombie turkey author?”
“So think of something to do with your reporting and investigative skills. That’s your first job. Get out of here and work on it at home. When I come home tonight, I want a decision from you. That’s a deadline.”
“Ok, Lisa. And thanks. You know I work best under a deadline.”
“Sure, dear. We’ll go out for dinner tonight to celebrate your new career, whatever it will be.”
“I’m kind of tired of McDonald’s.”
“We’ll spurge. We’ll go to the big city of Peoria. Maybe to the Country Time Buffet.”
“Wow. Thanks, Lisa.”
“Now, shoo!” Lisa pushed her hands toward him. “Don’t forget to clear out your desk.”
* * *
From my novel Zombie Detective, by Andy Zach
Your Gift Chapter 1 – Part 3
After packing his desk into a cardboard box, Sam walked the four blocks from the Midley office to their home at the corner of Maple Street and Main in downtown Midley, Illinois, population five hundred.
Lisa had given him one final assignment. Find a job using his reporting experience.
He set up his laptop and entered “experienced online reporter.” He quickly found he should be paid $44,000 to $66,000 a year, depending upon experience. At the peak of the zombie turkey plague, Lisa had paid him $100,000. That lowered to $50,000 and then $25,000 the week before she laid him off.
Sam applied for a dozen jobs online. He didn’t feel sanguine. He wanted to talk to someone.
What else could he search for? “Investigator.” He’d certainly done that.
Look at that definition. Private investigator—a person who does not work for the police or government but who undertakes investigations as a subcontractor.
He sure could do that. He needed a license in Illinois. Sam met all the qualifications except education and experience. He just had a diploma from Midley High, home of the Midley Meteors.
“Hi, Lisa,” he greeted dully when she came home. He hung his head.
“Why are you in a blue funk? Normally you’re like a puppy dog when I come home. Didn’t you find a job?”
Your Gift Chapter 1 – Part 4
“I really like the idea of being a private investigator, but I need three years experience or a degree, and I’ve got neither.”
“You’ve got that. You’ve got ten years experience with the Midley Beacon.”
“I can see that, but you’re not a private investigator.”
“Ha! Running a small-town newspaper is just like being a private investigator. Don’t worry about it. I’ll get the paperwork done for you, and me and you can start practicing tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Lisa, but I don’t see how this can work out.”
“Let me do the thinking. That isn’t your strong suit. Your strength is interviewing and getting people to like you.”
“OK, Lisa.”
“Now let’s go out to celebrate your new private investigator job. I’m thinkin’ of chickin.”
“Which restaurant?”
“Mama’s Chicken in Peoria.”
“Mmm-mmm. I can already smell their fried chicken and biscuits!”
“You drive. I’ll take my laptop and fill out the online application for a PI agency and a PI license for you.”
* * *
The next morning as Sam woke up, Lisa smugly handed him a printed piece of paper. He looked at it, and his mouth dropped open. “Lisa, I can’t believe you got me a PI license already!”
“And I’m the proud owner of the Midley Detective Agency—and have been for ten years. I’ve got the documentation to prove it.”
“How could you do that so fast?”
“I’ve got some friends in the government and all the documentation. Plus, we move at internet speed here at the Midley Beacon.”
Part 5
“But is all that legal?”
“Legal enough to hold up in court. All the documents are back dated. That’s all I care about. Don’t worry so much, Sam.”
“I’ve got some good news for you. A couple of PI agencies have contacted me. They’re from Chicago, Springfield, and St. Louis. Most of them want me to investigate domestic cases or politicians.”
Lisa frowned. “Domestic cases are boring. Politicians are too, but at least that’s steady work. Start with them and also advertise yourself through the internet. A lot of PI agencies don’t. I’ll advertise as well. Here’s a list of free places to advertise.” Lisa handed him a printout.
“Great. Let me kiss you before you go to work.”
* * *
Sam took out ads everywhere Lisa suggested, on social media, mailing lists, and local services sites. Then he waited for his phone to ring and email to ding.
Nothing.
He called the PI agencies. They wanted him to have experience with domestic and political investigations. “Thanks, but no thanks,” they said.
As he went to sleep that night, Lisa, said, “Don’t worry, Sam. Tomorrow will be better.”
Soon after Lisa went to work the next day, she called him.
“Sam! I’ve got a job for you!”
“What is it?”
“There’s a possible zombie animal sighting in Normal, Illinois. I just got an email.”
“That’s not normal.”
“Yeah, well, it’s right up your alley. Dutchman’s Dairy. Here’s the address.”
Your Gift Chapter 1 – Part 6
Sam drove to Normal in his hulking 1984 Lincoln Town Car. He was glad it’d had bodywork and a new paint job during their prosperous months after the zombie turkey apocalypse. The two-tone brown paint looked spiffy. And it hid rust.
Sam left I-74 after Bloomington and headed to Dutchman’s Dairy. Black-and-white cows dotted the green fields around a barn. He parked, then walked to the door and entered.
“Hi. I’m Sam Melvin, private investigator.” He’d practiced that opening line on the way over. “I heard you have some sort of zombie animal?”
“Zombie animal?” The middle-aged woman at the counter frowned. Refrigerators full of dairy products lined the walls around the room. “I wonder if Mr. Haagen knows something.”
“Who’s Mr. Haagen?”
“He’s the owner of Dutchman’s Dairy.”
“And what’s your name?”
“I’m Shirley Holzheimer.” She picked up her phone and tapped.
“Mr. Haagen? . . . Did you call a private investigator? . . . OK, he’s here at the store.”
She set her phone on the counter. “He’ll be right here.”
“Thank you.” Sam looked around. Milk. Yogurt. Cheese. Ice cream. Hmmm. Vanilla, strawberry. Maybe Lisa would like a half gallon? He would.
An elderly but spry man entered.
“Mr. Haagen?”
“That’s my name—don’t wear it out. Or you can call me Steve. You are . . .”
Part 7
“Sam Melvin, private investigator. I heard you had some zombie animal here.”
“Or something. You saw my cows as you came in?”
“Sure.”
“Every night for the past week something has been breaking through my fence, and my cows have been escaping.”
“Wow. Could it simply be your cows getting out?”
“Nope. The fence is broken from outside.”
“Um, try a bigger fence?”
“It’s electrified. I amped up the voltage. Nothing. I put steel fencing behind the wire. Down it came. I even tried cinderblocks behind the steel fencing. Everything was smashed.”
“I guess I’ll have to watch it overnight.”
“Yeah, I thought of that, and then I thought of you, the famous zombie turkey reporter. I didn’t want to try this without your expertise.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“So you’re working as a detective now? A zombie detective?”
“I guess so.”
“Well, detect.”
Sam went to the broken fence with Steve. A hundred yards of electric fence wire lay on the ground, pointing toward the barn. The steel fencing was bowed and flattened. The cinderblocks were scattered about like cereal pieces from a toddler’s high chair.
“Whoa, there was some real force used here.”
“I’m glad it’s you who’s investigating.”
“Uh, yeah. What are these tracks all over the ground?”
“My cows. When the fence goes down, they go out. They come back in the same way.”
“They return?”
“Sure. They know where the food is.”
“What’s on the other side of the fence? Who’s property is it?
Your Gift Chapter 1 – Part 8
“It’s my neighbor’s wood lot. We’ve gone through it together, but we haven’t found anything.”
“I hope you were armed.”
“Yup. We read about the zombie turkeys. We had shotguns and flamethrowers. Zombie Burners brand from Amazon.”
“That’ll do it. I’m not sure the shotguns would help. They only slow them down while they regenerate.”
“Heh. I’ve been reading up on zombie turkeys. They’re loaded with rock salt.”
“That’s a new one. I know salt water works on zombie turkeys to kill the bacteria, but I never thought of rock salt.”
“You put a load of rock salt into a zombie turkey and what do you get when it dissolves? Salt water.”
“That might work.”
“We’ll find out tonight.”
That evening, Sam enjoyed a hearty barbecue steak dinner with Steve and his wife, Abby, around their dinner table. They filled in the cracks with corn on the cob and homemade French fries.
“That was a great meal, Steve, Abby. Thanks.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Sam. Seems we always have plenty of beef around here,” Abby said.
“Sun’s down, Sam. Let’s go on our ‘steakout.’”
“Ha! Did you get the fence back up?”
Part 9
“Yup. The boys are getting pretty fast at repairing that baby. I even had them mix up a bag of concrete and pour it over the cinderblocks.”
“Would it set that fast?”
“So happens we were laying a new driveway and I got this concrete admixture that hardens it faster. Plus, I had some rebar lying around, and I put that in too.”
“Let’s see if that slows down this thing, whatever it is.”
“You don’t think it was those zombie turkeys?”
“No, there’d be turkey feathers everywhere, and they’d attack your cows.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“I’m afraid some other animal has gone zombie.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yes. I hope you have your flamethrower.”
“Yep. I’ve got the big one I use to protect the house. I hooked an old well pump to a fifty-five-gallon barrel of napalm. I read about that in the Midley Beacon.”
“Yes, that was from one of the turkey farmers who survived.”
As they settled down in a duck blind to watch the fence from fifty yards away, Sam asked, “Steve, did you have any zombie turkeys out here?”
“Yeah, we got one flock come through before Thanksgiving, but the flamethrower did the trick. I’d say I owe you one, Sam.”
Your Gift Chapter 1 – Part 10
They watched the fence in the light of the setting half-moon. Out of the woods galloped a huge shape. Its eyes glowed red. It accelerated and hit the fence head down. Sparks flew as the electric fence wires snapped. The steel fence slammed into the reinforced cinderblocks. The blocks and the concrete cracked and bent but didn’t break. The steel rebar held.
“What is that?” Sam cried “It’s a zombie something.”
“I think—” Steve was cut off as the thing slammed into the fence again and again, like a horizontal jackhammer. With each blow, chips of concrete and cinder blocks flew yards from the back of the fence, hitting the blind like shrapnel.
“I think it’s going to break through!” Sam said.
The rebar bowed more and more as the concrete and cinderblocks crumbled beneath the massive blows. Then like a spring, a whole section popped out of the gravel that once was solid. The creature followed with a snort and a bellow.
“It’s a bull!”
“A zombie bull!”
Simultaneously, they sprayed the huge bovine with their flamethrowers.
Crazed, dazzled, and maddened by the flames, the bull ran in circles and then fled back to the woods. They could trace its path by the burning underbrush in its wake.
“OK, it’s time to see if this salt buckshot works.” Sam checked the magazine of the shotgun Steve had given him. He found it full and trailed the bull’s fiery tracks, carrying the shotgun.
“It worked on the zombie turkeys, but I don’t know about this bull.”
“There’s only one way to find out. Try it. Maybe we’ll find it sleeping.”
Part 11
“Wouldn’t that be nice.”
“Say, Steve, where do you get salt loaded into your cartridges?”
“I do it myself. I’ve loaded my own cartridges for over forty years.”
“I’ve got the ten rounds you gave me. How much ammo do you have?”
“Another twenty.”
“I hope that’s enough. I still got my trusty zombie flamethrower.”
“You’re pretty handy with that shotgun,” Steve said as they followed the trail of embers.
“I got a lot of experience with zombie turkeys. Look. The flames are dying out.”
“Yeah. There’s too much moisture in the ground for them to spread.”
“Let me get out my flashlight.”
“There are the bull’s tracks. No more burnt underbrush.”
Your Gift Chapter 1 – Part 12
“Huh. What’s this?” Sam picked up a black tattered piece of leather. “What do you think, Steve?”
“That’s a piece of the bull. I wondered what would happen to all that burned skin.”
“I’ve seen zombie turkeys burned bald grow skin and feathers back in about ten minutes.”
“We’ve been tracking him for over twenty minutes. Do you think he’s recovered?”
“I’d bet on it.”
“We’re nearly past my neighbor’s property and to the next one. There’s the property line. And fence.”
Sam shone his light on the fence. “There’s a bull-sized hole.”
Steve examined the broken barbed wire. “It’s already starting to rust. It’s been broken for at least a week. I check my fence every week. My neighbor doesn’t have cows. But maybe he does now.”
They went through the breach, hiked down a ravine, and waded across the creek. “Now what? I don’t see any tracks,” Sam said.
“Me neither. Let’s split up. You go downstream toward the road, and I’ll go upstream.”
Sam followed the rivulet to the road without seeing any tracks. He went back and followed Steve’s footprints in the mud next to the creek. Sam heard nothing. He was so intent on tracking he almost bumped into Steve.
“Hey.”
“Shhh.” Steve pointed.
Fifty yards away, lying in the mud and watching them, was the bull with red glowing eyes. Was it resting? It snorted.
Your Gift Chapter 1 – Part 13
Sam pointed his shotgun at the bull. “Should we fire?” he whispered.
“Maybe climb this tree first, in case he charges.” Steve pointed to a gnarled oak growing in the bank. They clambered to a branch about ten feet above the ground.
“Aim for the head. I don’t think we’ll get through the hide.”
“OK, Steve. One, two, three––”
BLAM! BLAM! The two shots sounded like one. The bull jumped four feet straight up, bellowed, and charged.
BLAM! BLAM!
WHAM! The whole tree shook as the bull rammed it. Sam almost fell but held his shotgun with one hand and a higher branch with another.
“Here he comes again!”
WHAM!
BLAM! BLAM! Click. “I gotta reload, Sam. Brace me.”
Sam held his shotgun between his knees, the branch with one hand, and Steve with the other.
WHAM! The bull circled and charged again.
BLAM! BLAM! Sam and Steve took two more shots at the bull’s head on the way in.
WHAM!
BLAM! BLAM! Click. Now Sam was out.
Your Gift Chapter 1 – Part 14
This time the bull shook his head, as if annoyed by flies.
“How long did the salt take to dezombify the turkeys?” Sam said as he reloaded his gun.
“Let me think. They were shredded, then grew back feathers, then their eyes turned normal. Maybe fifteen minutes?”
“Let’s see. A big turkey might weigh twenty pounds, thirty or forty for a domestic.”
“These were domestic birds gone zombie. Big.”
“Say the bull weighs two thousand pounds. That’s fifty times bigger than a turkey, so he’ll need fifty times the salt.”
WHAM!
BLAM! BLAM!
“I see a problem, Sam. We’ve only got thirty cartridges.”
“And we’ve shot ten already.”
“Maybe the bull will get bored.”
“I wouldn’t bet my life on it.”
“You might have—”
WHAM!
BLAM! BLAM!
“That was the biggest hit yet, Sam.”
“Is the tree tilting?”
“It—”
WHAM!
BLAM! BLAM!
“It’s like riding a bucking bronco.” Sam loaded his last two cartridges. “I’m out.”
Your Gift Chapter 1 – Part 15
“Here’s four more.” Steve reloaded his gun.
WHAM!
BLAM! BLAM!
“It’s definitely tilting.”
“I think the roots are pulling out, Sam.”
WHAM!
BLAM! BLAM!
They could hear the tree creaking and cracking as it leaned farther and farther. Sam’s branch above his head was now behind him. They’d tilted to six feet off the ground.
“Here he comes again!”
BLAM! BLAM! They fired as the bull charged.
WHAM! The tree’s limbs hit the creek bank.
BLAM! BLAM! The bull headed off, shaking its bloody head, still red eyed.
Sam reloaded. “I’m out again.”
“I’ve got two left. Plus the four in our guns—we’ve got six shots left. Let’s make them count.”
“Look. The tree roots are out of the ground.”
“Maybe that’ll stop him. We’re only five feet off the ground.”
“Here he comes, Steve!”
BLAM! BLAM!
WHUMP! The bull rammed the wad of tree roots and earth, flattening the tree into the banks. Their branch was a comfy seat, two feet off the ground. Sam braced his feet on the soil.
Your Gift Chapter 1 – Part 16
BLAM! BLAM! Ka-BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Ka-BLAM!
“All gone, Sam.”
“Oh, my shoulder!”
The bull shook its head again and trotted off in the moonlight. It lay in the mud, its red eyes stalking them. Slowly they closed as he drifted off to sleep.
“Now what, Steve?”
“Hmmm. I’ve got a tow chain in my truck. Let’s get it and chain him to that tree.”
“OK.”
With the chain in Steve’s hand, they stealthily approached the bull.
“Chain it to the tree first, Sam.”
Sam looped it around the stout maple and clipped it to itself.
“I don’t think this’ll hold a zombie bull,” he whispered.
“Mebbe it won’t have to. Mebbe it’ll be a normal bull now. Let me tie it to the horns.”
Steve silently, slowly worked the chain around the bull’s horns. He quickly cinched it and snapped it together.
The bull snorted and went on sleeping.
“It’s almost dawn. I’ll go and check with my neighbor and see if they’re missing a bull. You stay here. If he looks like he’ll escape, give him the flamethrower.”
“Will do.”
Sam watched his prey from the tree trunk the bull had knocked down. He bit his lip. If the bull woke up, its zombie strength would make short work of the chain. He looked around for trees and spotted another oak up the bank. He rose, when he heard a snort.
There was the bull glaring at him, tow chain dangling from his horns. With black eyes.
Bull’s-eye. He wasn’t a zombie anymore. They’d dezombified him.”
One Last Thing
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Andy Zach