Jus Accardo - Darker Days

It was hard to piss off my mom, but Id managed to do just thatpiss her off. Big time. Matter of fact, I couldnt remember the last time Id made her this mad.

My punishment was pretty severe and totally didnt fit the crime. At least, that was my opinion. Id been sent out to deal with a client. Not just any client, but a client from The LedgesPenance, New Yorks very own mini Beverly Hills.

On the doorstep of the opulent Victorian, I listened as the doorbell announced my presence in a yak-worthy, upbeat version of Beethovens Fur Elise. It was loud enough to hear over my iPod. Christ. It wasnt bad enough to use the work of the greatest musical genius of our time as a doorbell, they had to add a bass and cymbals, too?

I flipped off my iPod and pulled the buds from my ears. A few moments later, the door opened, and I was greeted by a middle-aged woman wearing a leopard print bikini, rhinestone flip flops, and huge matching sunglasses. Lord. What possessed these people to spend money on this junk? The price tag for the glasses alone was probably way into the triple digits, yet they looked like something youd see at a dollar store.

Im Jessie, from the Darker Agency. They sent me to deal with your problem.

The woman pulled down her glasses and blinked a few times. Youre just a child, she said finally. What can you do about it?

I should have been insulted, but it was the same song on a different day.

I promise Im qualified to deal with the issue. Not that I knew what the issue was. Mom had neglected to tell me. If shed sent me out alone though, chances were it was easy peasywhich equaled boo-ring as hell.

The woman shrugged and held the door open. Obviously, my age wasnt a big concern for her as long as I could make the problem go away. Yep. That was me. A regular fairy godmother in Sketchers.

I followed her through the house, trying hard not to touch anything. The dcor was as tacky as the woman. Zebra print couch, leopard print rugsthe people from PETA would have a coronary on general purpose aloneand an extremely creepy four-foot statue of Buddha covered entirely in rhinestones. Or maybe they were diamonds. With these people, who knew?

When we got to the back door, she stopped and waved me ahead. Hes out back. In the pool.

He?

My husband.

I froze. Your husband? Maam, if this is a domestic dispute, the police are probably better suited to deal with it

The woman came forward, pinning me with an indignant glare. Arms folded and finger tapping, she said, I called the police. They told me I was crazy.

Oh, no.

It couldnt possibly be my husband, she continued, voice taking on a slight squeak. Head shaking furiously, she marched to the edge of the deck and waggled a scarlet-tipped finger at the pool. Your husband died a week ago, they said.

Oh, hell no.

She scrunched up her nose and stomped a flip-flop clad foot, doing her best impression of a spoiled five-year-old. He showed up three days ago, and I cant get rid of him.

I took a single step forward and peered over the edge. In the middle of the pool, underwater, was a man in a dark suit.

I couldnt believe it. Mom had sent me out here to deal with a zombie. A frigging zombie!

She must have been really mad

It was silly, reallymy issue with zombies. They were generally harmless. More annoying than anything else. That whole thing about eating brains and craving flesh? Bunch of crap. Zombies smelled bad. They had the whole creeptastic, stare-right-through-you thing going on. But munching people? Not their thing.

There were plenty of other things out there that did that.

From an early age, Mom made sure I knew Hollywood had it all wrong. Zombies didnt rise from the grave to eat brains and infect people with their chompers. They were a corporeal manifestation of the deceasedher overinflated wording, not mine. They pretty much appeared in a place they found comforting in lifeand stayed there. An occasional gurgle or muscle twitch, but otherwise nada. Getting rid of them was simple. A little quartz powder and a match did the trick.

Of course, that was when they werent under six feet of pool water.

Payment was discussed with the agency? I asked, unlacing my sneakers. The one thing Mom and I learned the hard wayget the money up front. It wasnt just credit card payments and dinner checks people skipped out on in this economy. Wed been stiffed too many times to count.

The woman nodded and waved a check in front of my face. Just get rid of that icky thing and its all yours.

Icky thing? She and her husband must have been an epic kind of love

I dont deserve this, I muttered under my breath. Pulling off my socks, I stuffed them into the shoes, then pulled the iPod from my pocket and set it on the table next to my cell.

What was that? the woman asked. She was standing off to the side, tapping her foot. Apparently, I wasnt moving fast enough.

Nothing. This was a clear case of punishment not fitting the crime. All Id done was sneak off to take some incriminating pictures of the school principal and his much younger new girlfriend at a swingers bar outside town. Marcy Dubois, a girl in my math classand the principals daughterpaid me five hundred bucks to do it! No one in their right mind turns down an easy five hundred bucks

Apparently, I should have.

Mom had a strict no student jobs rule, meaning I was forbidden to take side jobs from classmates. What Id done hadnt even been about the money. Well, it had a little, but it was also semi-personal. Another no-no in Moms book. Id gotten detention four times last week for being three minutes late to class. Three minutes! Plus, I wasnt a fan of cheaters. If you asked me, I should have gotten a handshake and an oversized chocolate cookie for what Id done.

Not a soggy zombie.

Squatting down by the edge of the pool, I slipped my legs into the cool water, sending ripples across the surface. The zombie didnt move. I held my breath and slipped the rest of the way in, fighting back a shiver.

Communication was an issue with zombies. They didnt chat. Asking it nicely to step out of the water so I could set it on fire probably wasnt going to fly. Id have to drag it out. That meant touching it. My stomach convulsed and I fought back the remnants of the tuna bagel Id eaten earlier.

I was a professional, dammit. I could do this without tossing my cookiesor my tuna.

I let my head slip beneath the water and dove to the bottom of the pool. Extending a hand, I poked the things shoulder. Nothing. Gripping it under both arms, I pushed off the bottom and kicked hard for the surface. When my head broke the water, I nearly choked on the smell. The air stank like a month old dead chicken in the summer sun mixed with rotting road kill. Pungent and able to induce yakking with a single whiff. The tuna bagel tried to make a reappearance, but once again, I swallowed it back and made my way to the edge.

When I got there, I planted both feet on the top step and heaved the zombie from the water. It complied with no resistance, righting itself once we were on solid ground.

So far, so good.

Grabbing my bag from the picnic table, I pulled out a small vial of quartz powder mixed with salt. Fairy Dust, Mom dubbed it. Some girls I knew never left the house without makeup essentialsthe hottest shade of lip gloss and a killer waterproof mascara. Not me. I was all about the tools of my trade.

Popping the cap on the quartz, I sprinkled some of the Dust at the feet of the zombie, then pulled the small container of lighter fluid from my back pocket, spritzing the thing down. Still no complaints.