Used Zombies

By B.P. Kasik

A mini-epic saga of zombies-for-rent, zombies getting religion, and zombies getting jobs. Fun for the whole zombie family!

• Language: English
• Publisher: B.P. Kasik
• Release date: Mar 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370986545

B.P. Kasik

B.P. Kasik is the author of dozens of humor, horror, YA, mystery, fantasy, and/or science fiction books. Has a wife and kids. Is on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and a blog somewhere. Also known as “Phony McFakename.” Thinks about you every now and then. Hopes you’re doing well.

Book preview

Early 21st century Earth was obsessed with an impending zombie apocalypse.

Experts differ on why.

All we know is that it eventually happened. And it happened in a way that no one saw coming.

Heck, I’m still processing it. After all these years.

This isn’t that story, though. Well—it is, sort of. Call it deep background.

I didn’t write this story, so much as compile it. Since the EMP hit, all computerized records and archives are gone, so I got nothing to work with there.

I managed to interview the last remaining eyewitnesses, tracked down every personal journal I could find among those involved, and even had some visions. (Hopefully, they were true.)

Also I just made some stuff up. Many historical details from this era are lost in time. Like pee-pee drops in a sewage treatment facility.

So take this history of the decades leading up to the end of the beginning of the end with a grain of salt. Or a shaker. No—make that a whole Lot’s-wife-sized pillar of salt. There are some inaccuracies in here. But it’s as close as anyone’s liable to get to the truth.

Did I mention I’m a zombie? Because I am. So bear that in mind. I tried to remain neutral regarding the living, but they really do suck in comparison to us.

No offense.

USED ZOMBIES

PART ONE: ZOMBIE RELIGION

Chapter 1: Green Shoes and Ham

After a few decades of slave labor, the zombies finally got itchy feet and decided they were tired of living in Rioville with Jeff.

They felt oppressed, really.

So much time spent being rented out and shuffled from one party or corporate gig or movie or TV show after another with no long-term job security. Even unionizing and taking more control of their work lives wasn’t enough anymore.

So one of the zombies, Moseley, rose up as a prophetic leader. He was the one destined to stand up to Jeff.

Moseley! cried Zombie God one Tuesday in the middle of May.

Huh? said Moseley on that fateful mid-May Tuesday.

The prophesied day is upon you! said Zombie God in Moseley’s head.

Say what now? responded Moseley, in accordance with the prophecy.

Set your people free! proclaimed Zombie God.

I’m not enslaving them.

No, I mean get your human boss to set the zombies free!

Oh, okay. You’ve never spoken this loudly or clearly before. What gives?

No response.

Gah! gah’ed Moseley. Zombie God always dipped out before a conversation could get too helpful.

So verily, Moseley girded his loins until he had very well-girded loins.

And he walked through the scorched remains of Town Square and entered City Hall, where he approached the zombie slavemaster, Jeff.

Jeff was sitting there, watching Who’s the Boss? on his battery-powered television and eating Cheez-Its. He was very old. His wife had passed away years ago and was buried—no zombification for her—and his children had moved away and built lives for themselves. (One of them died and came back as a zombie, but that’s another story.)

Moseley walked up to him and said Hey!

Huh? said Jeff, barely turning from his TV.

Let my people go!

Go where?

You know. Away.

Oh. I didn’t know I was keeping you here.

You are! And heed my words, or our god will send down so many plagues on you, your head will spin!

You have a god?

We do!

Since when?

I found out pretty recently, to be honest.

Huh. Neat.

Aren’t you gonna deny our god’s existence and refuse us our freedom?

No, not at all. It’s all good in the hood.

The zombie looked confused. I thought you were our oppressor.

No, no. I just brought you back to life so I could make a zombie movie with you.

"What about renting us out as slave labor to the folks at that Dead Walking show?"

Yeah, sorry about that. Seemed like a good business for a while there. Thought you wouldn’t mind.

We mind!

Okay, okay. You don’t have to do that anymore.

Won’t those Hollywood people be annoyed?

Whatever, they’ve been phoning that show in since the second season. They can find their zombies elsewhere.

Oh. So we’re free to go?

Yeah, do whatever.

Jeff ate another handful of Cheez-Its and turned his eyes back to the TV.

Moseley nodded, scratched at a couple worms he felt crawling up his back. Then we’ll just be leaving, then.

I’ll miss you, but I’ll live.

We won’t!

Ha—‘cause you’re zombies. Good one.

Call me a mushroom, because I’m a ‘fun guy’!

Not a good one. Hey, I’m loaded with cash, thanks to all these years of zombie rental payments, plus I’ve been financially anorexic along the way. You guys want a few bucks for the road?

No, no, we’ll be fine. Our god will provide.

Okay. Hey, did your god tell you why he killed all of you and let me resurrect you as zombies in the first place?

No, he’s pretty vague about that.

Bummer. I was always kind of curious.

There are hints that there’s some grand design in which we’re all destined to play our part.

Humans believe that, too.

Yeah. But we have no real answers.

Humans don’t have those, either.

Interesting.

Well, seeya.

Seeya.

Moseley returned to his zombie brethren and announced, We are free to go!

Everyone rejoiced.

So they started walking down the interstate. They kept to the side of the road to stay out of people’s way, but more than a few children pointed and laughed.

Moseley felt hunger for the first time as he looked at the humans, but clenched his fists and tried to think about something else.

Moseley’s second-in-command, Eerie, said, Dude, where are we going?

Moseley pointed down the road. Thataway.

Eerie looked ahead. The desert?

Yeah.

Cool, but you know we’re gonna run into the Grand Canyon in like 20 minutes.

I know, but it’ll be okay. Moseley winked. Trust me.

Eerie didn’t look very trusting. He looked back and saw the nearly mile-long army of the undead who were hungry and homeless and lacking any clear destination.

Sure enough, the road ended at the Grand Canyon.

Everyone looked at Moseley with a Dude, what now? expression.

Eerie stepped up alongside him and whispered, Should we walk around it?

Nah. Check this out.

Moseley raised his hands to the sky and a line of water torrents shot up from the base of the canyon. The wall of water rushed all the way up to ground level. The top of the spray was several feet wide and stretched all the way across