Zombie Tales: Primrose Court Apt. 305 Read Online Free Page B

~
    Charles slipped behind the steering
wheel and fired up the engine. The car chugged and smoked for a
moment and then began to idle. He shifted the transmission into
drive and pulled away from the curb.
    ~ Take it slow now, Charlie
Boy, can’t afford to get stopped. Head over to highway 99 and
follow it north. By the time it’s dark, you’ll be out in the
country where it’s safe to bury your wife. ~
    He pulled onto the highway and tried to
stanch the bleeding from his right arm. The Korean lady had taken a
chunk out and the blood was running down his elbow, soaking into
his flannel shirt, and puddling on the vinyl seat beside
him.
    ~ Watch the road.
~
    Charles looked up in time to see a
large, Mercedes sedan clip the right side of his Lincoln as it
passed him on the inside. The car swerved in front of him and he
stomped on the brakes to avoid slamming into the back of it. He
laid on his horn, but the flashy, silver sedan jumped over to the
next lane and sped away.
    ~ There’s something wrong
with you, Charlie Boy. ~
    “I’m just hungry, Mom. I haven’t eaten
all day. I just need to get something to eat, then I’ll be alright,
then I’ll go to the country and bury Mariana.”
    ~ You can’t risk stopping.
You have to keep going; you have to take care of this business
first. ~
    Charles tried to focus on the road. He
almost wiped at the sweat on his upper lip with the paper towel in
his hand, but then remembered that it was covered in blood from his
arm. He looked at himself in the rearview mirror. His skin was pale
and his flesh seemed to sag. He looked like the shut-in from the
apartment below him, the one who had called the cops.
    Charles passed the Woodland Park Zoo
and Green Lake.
    “Not much further now,
mother. There’s a McDonalds up here on the left. At about
150 th Street I think. Do you want anything, Mom? I can’t wait… I
haven’t had McDonalds since before the wedding.”
    She didn’t answer. He didn’t
notice.
    Charles bumped up over the curb and
weaved through the parking area. He circled to the drive-thru and
lurched to a stop at the giant menu board and speaker
post.
    “Welcome to McDonalds, go ahead and
order when you’re ready,” the speaker post told him.
    “Can I get two…?” Charles bumped his
head against his window and then clicked the switch to roll it
down. “Yeah, umm… can I get two number ones with no pickles and no
salt on my fries?” Charles still knew how to get his food fresh and
hot, just special order it and they have to make it while you
wait.
    “What would you like to drink with
that?” the post asked him.
    “Coke for me, but my mom wants a
Sprite.”
    The speaker post started to say his
order back, but Charles didn’t bother to wait. He was starving. He
pulled up to the first window, fumbled his debt card out of his
wallet, and handed it to the pimple faced kid inside.
    “Are you alright, Mister?” The kid
asked, “You don’t look so hot.”
    “Big Macs…,” Charles replied and the
kid nodded and handed him his card and a receipt.
    “Pull up to the next window, please,”
the kid said.
    He pulled to the next window and pushed
the gear shifter into park. He put his head back on the headrest
and closed his eyes for a moment.
    “Here’s your drinks,” a voice said,
“your food’s gonna take a few more minutes.”
    Charles opened his eyes and his head
flopped forward. He reached out his window and took the drinks from
the young, black kid. As the kid turned away, Charles dropped the
drinks on the seat next him.
    “Here, Mom, hold these…” he
mumbled.
    Charles heard thumping and wished the
guy in apartment 205 would stop pounding on the ceiling. Or was
that his heart, the cops were coming up the stairs to his
apartment, noise complaint they had said.
    He tried to focus. He
wasn’t in his apartment. He was in the car. Charles looked in his
rear view mirror and saw a big SUV with tinted windows and a custom
grill stopped that the drive-thru window