*** This month we are participating in the A to Z Blog Challenge. Check it out! ***
In honor of the A to Z blog challenge, here's a DAY in the life of a zombie exterminator, brought to you by the letter D!
|This is my sister, Gina Koske, who posed for Neeta for me because she's built and bada** that way! Thanks, sis!|
Neeta woke up to the strains of Radioactive Sushi wailing about the glow and smacked off the alarm. Why had she set it so early?
Oh, yeah—dinner with Ted’s mom and cousins, but before that, four quarterly treatments, a new customer appraisal, and Mrs. Beechman. Doable before four, if they didn’t get a 9-1-1 zombie call, but they hadn’t had a zombie sighting in months. More likely, Mrs. Beechman would refuse to hear the doorbell again. Last time, it had taken her half an hour to get her attention. Why someone who lives alone needs to wear noise canceling headphones was beyond her.
Maybe the fates will give me a break. Neeta rose to shower.
Neeta left her house/office to find Ted already loading up her van—a squarish job with bolts and flat panels just like its Hummer predecessors but twice as badass, even painted light blue with the Lyffe-Undeath Exterminations logo splashed on the sides.
“Time’s a-wasting, boss!” he greeted her. “Mom will not accept that we’re late because we were spraying for ants, you know.” Nonetheless, he slipped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek before they got in the van.
The quarterlies went well, but the new customer had a lot of questions and a big house. It was almost three before they got to Mrs. Beechman’s.
“You start on the outside while I try to get her to let us in,” Neeta said as they pulled up to her house.
“Uh, are you sure she’s here?”
“I double checked the schedule.” Neeta scowled as she regarded the overstuffed mailbox and the newspapers on the porch. “Tell you what: get started anyway; if she’s on vacation, we’ll call and leave a message.”
Neeta grabbed a trash bag from the back and stuffed the mail into it. She could either give it to her or hold onto it until she returned. Then, Mrs. Beechman would have to let her in.
She stuffed the newspapers into the bag, then rang the doorbell. Waited. Rang the bell. Knocked. Finally, she leaned over the porch so she could peek into the window. Yep. There she was, sitting at her desk, those annoying earphones on her head. Neeta banged the window as hard as she could without breaking it. With a daily routine or whacking dummy zombies with a chainsaw, that was plenty hard. Mrs. Beechman jerked and rose from her chair.
Neeta almost fell off the porch when she saw the decaying but mobile corpse. “Ted! We’ve got a dead one!”
She spun and jumped off the steps just as Mrs. Beechman flung open the door. Her undead hand lashed out and grabbed at the swinging bag. Short and dense, she nearly jerked Neeta off her feet.
“Maaaailll!” the zombie groaned.
Neeta release the bag with a shove in her direction and ran to her van.
By the time she and Ted had returned to the porch, suited and armed with monofilament swords, the Late Mrs. Beechman had settled cross-legged on the cement, dividing the mail while grunting, “Spam. Bills. Spam.” She came across the catalog for organic farming and pressed it to her chest. “Graaaains!”
Neeta swung. The single, then thread of a blade sliced through her neck while the electrified field surrounding it cauterized the flesh. A neat kill, overall.
That didn’t erase the fact that they’d have to clean up, go through decontamination, and fill out the paperwork with the authorities, however. Neeta sighed. “Maybe you’d better call your mom and give her our regrets.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Ted said as he snaked an arm around her. “Such is a day in the life of a zombie exterminator.”
Neeta Lyffe, Zombie Exterminator : http://amzn.to/hTqMGa
I Left My Brains in San Francisco: http://amzn.to/Nzm01L
Learn more about the Zombie Exterminator novels at http://zombiedeathextreme.com
Find out about all of Karina Fabian’s books at http://fabianspace.com