Suckers - Jack Kilborn [41]
The freak chuckled, the nostrils on his large nose flaring out.
“Oh, funny you should mention dinner. Because the main course…” He cackled.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“The main course…” More cackling.
“What’s the main course, Emeril?”
“The… main course… is…” Hysterical laughter now.
I interrupted him. “I got it. The main course is me. You’re going to eat me. Scary. What a scary guy you are.”
“Not me, Mr. McGlade. You’re going to be a snack,” cackle cackle, “for my… zombie wife!”
I waited for the giggles to die down before I said, “Dude, your wife isn’t a zombie.”
“Yes she is.”
“She’s not even dead. I just saw her like an hour ago.”
“Not that hag. I mean my first wife. The love of my life, tragically taken from me after only one year of marriage.”
“So what about that ugly chick back at your house?”
“Her? I married her for the money.”
I smiled. “Thank god. I thought you were totally nuts there for a minute.”
“No kidding. She’s a real heifer, isn’t she?”
“I said in the first chapter that it was like God took a dare to make the most unattractive woman possible.”
“Yes, that’s Norma.”
“Who?”
“My second wife! But now it’s time for you to meet my first wife! And to feed her! Do you know what a necromancer is, Mr. McGlade?”
I shrugged. Not an easy task when tied up. “I meant to look it up.”
“It’s someone who has the power to raise the dead. Since Roberta died…”
“Who?”
“My first wife.”
“This is a lot of names to keep straight. Can you write them down on a sticky pad for me?”
He didn’t take the bait. I’d hoped he would have gone off in search of a sticky pad, which would have given my time to scoot my chair over to the menacing curtains hanging from the ceiling and hide behind them. He’d never think to look for me there, and would probably go watch TV or something.
But he was too smart to be tricked.
“Since Roberta died, I’ve been searching for a way to bring her back. Now, through a combination of magic and science—something I call sci-magic—I have finally gained mastery over death! Behold, Mr. McGlade, the living dead!”
He cast aside the menacing curtain. Hanging from the ceiling was a dead body.
“Is that her?” I asked.
“That, indeed, is Roberta, my Zombie Wife!”
He spread out his hands, as if waiting for applause. Even if I wasn’t tied up, I wouldn’t have applauded.
“That’s not a zombie,” I said. “That’s a dead chick hanging on a rope.”
“Really, Mr. McGlade? Really?”
“Yeah. Really.”
“Well, watch this then.” He turned to face the corpse. “Roberta, my love, come to me!”
Phil grabbed an overhead rope, and Roberta swung forward using a system of weights and pulleys. He made her wave at me.
“You’re butt nuts,” I said.
“She lives, Mr. McGlade! And she thirsts for your flesh! For nothing else can quell the hunger of the living dead! Isn’t that right, Roberta?”
He tugged another rope, and she nodded. Actually, it was more of a sideways flop then a nod.
“Look, buddy, this has all been tremendously entertaining, but what do you say we untie me, I go to the cops, and you get put in a nice room with soft rubber walls so you don’t hurt yourself?”
“I’m not crazy! Roberta is one of the walking dead!”
“More like the swaying dead.”
He got in my face. “Admit she’s undead!”
“No.”
“But she moves! See!”
He made her do a little dance.
“You’re making her move using pulleys and ropes, like some strange sad puppet.”
He raised the hammer, aiming for the same spot where he hit me before. “Say she’s a zombie!”
“She a zombie,” I said quickly. “You’re a genius who has conquered death. I’m in awe of your brilliance.”
He stared at me hard, and then spun and yanked the dead chick closer. I realized she was naked, and her boobs were missing. I always notice little things like that. Her skin had become dark brown and wrinkly, like a giant raisin. Whack job had also cut some blue eyes from a magazine or poster, and stapled them over her eye sockets. Her teeth were bared, the corners of her mouth turned