Page 60 of 10 Things I Hate About Zombies

Kenard laid on the horn, and Nick came out from the greenhouse, Alice bounding along beside him. Her tail was waggling so hard it was flattening daisies on either side of her.

‘Here come the helpers!’ shouted Reba, as she climbed down from the Kombi with Gracie. ‘I made T-shirts!’

She showed off a tie-dyed shirt that read No Fence Sitters Here.

‘We’re the fence-repair brigade.’ Zoey gestured around at the extremely motley crew she’d assembled. ‘I know it’s been bothering you, and I figured you could use a few extra sets of hands.’

Nick cocked his head, then broke into a grin. ‘You were right when you said you had a surprise for me. I’m impressed.’

Zoey’s roiling stomach finally relented, giving way instead to a light, airy feeling. Was this … delight?

‘Mostly that you made it all the way out here,’ added Nick.

‘We almost didn’t.’ Kenard gave a gap-toothed grin. ‘It’s a World’s Shittiest Driver contest out there today. I tried my best to compete, but there’s no keeping up with some of these fools.’

‘We almost died five times,’ said Snarlin’ Carlin. ‘I was keeping count. Those old drummer habits die hard.’

Ah, so that explained the rhythmic kicking of the back of Zoey’s chair.

‘Can you let us out, man?’ asked a purple-haired woman called Berry.

Nick hauled open the van’s side door (it didn’t open from the inside – Zoey wasn’t sure whether that was due to age or by design), and the backseat punks came tumbling out in a jangle of metal. Handshakes and backslaps followed, each so hearty that Nick, who was not a small individual, was winded and gasping by the end of it.

‘Holy shit,’ he whispered to Zoey, as the punks wandered around, stretching out their legs in their acid-washed jeans. ‘I need to start walking around in a studded leather jacket. Apparently it’s how you get strong.’

‘I think their hair is the source of their strength,’ she countered. ‘You’re going to need a mohawk.’

Nick considered. ‘I just don’t have the head shape to rock a mohawk.’

Zoey grinned. ‘Not with that attitude you don’t.’

‘Is there a good spot to pee?’ asked Berry, waggling an enormous empty Dr Pepper bottle. ‘I drank this whole thing and it’s gone straight through.’

Nick pointed to a thicket of trees. ‘Nature has you covered.’

‘Need a funnel, hon?’ asked Reba. ‘I pioneered the ones they used at music festivals, you know. I’m a pro at peeing standing up.’

‘I bet,’ said Nick, sounding entirely sincere.

Gracie, meanwhile, was wandering around with her camera, snapping shots of the daisy fields and the one extremely persistent woodpecker who had it in for the power pole by the house.

‘I’m just here to document,’ she said. ‘We all have our strengths, and trust me, working backstage in off-off-off-Broadway is as close as I get to manual labour.’

‘I understand entirely,’ said Zoey, who would rather do manual labour than anything in the vicinity of off-off-off-Broadway.

Kenard hauled an auger out from the van, his rings clacking against it as he did. Zoey made a mental note to give a rousing speech about how all jewellery should be removed before beginning work to avoid degloving or strangulation incidents.

‘So, when does this vicious coyote or whatever make an appearance?’ asked Kenard.

Nick shrugged. ‘Dusk, usually. But who knows if we’re even dealing with a coyote. It could be something far more menacing.’

‘Ooh, I love the sound of that,’ said Reba. ‘Who said country life was boring?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Nick with a grin. ‘Who did?’

‘Not me.’ Zoey hid her face behind her hands.

‘Not me, ’cos where else can I use a tool like this?’ Kenard gave the device a rev. The massive drill bit on the end twirled angrily.