If we are ever so unfortunate as to have a zombie problem, I'm sure that soon enough, Hollywood will get involved. So when I was asked to write a novel based on my zombie exterminator, Neeta Lyffe, it was a natural progression to put her in a reality TV show training up apprentice exterminators. Of course, by the 2040s, realism won't be enough; it will have to be real. And that means real stupid gets real dead real fast. Here's how Neeta, her plebes, and the director Dave of
handle it when one plebe, Bergie Eidelberg, fatally fails the episode's challenge.
Much as
Neeta hated to admit it, Dave had been right about the place. Eidelberg would have loved the twilight
memorial on the beach.
The
location crew found a nice little spot above the tide line, not far from a
scrubby overhang. Dave sent people ahead
to rake and clear the area of trash, animal debris and dead seaweed, and to
move the federally mandated signs warning of the many dangers of swimming in
the ocean (including cramps, chills, stings of naturally occurring wildlife
that are really quite shy but have every right to defend themselves, shark
attacks, porpoise buttings, and the completely understandable but nonetheless
unsanitary bathroom habits of the ecologically rightful inhabitants). The four-by-four signs took two people each to
move, but Dave insisted that their reflective surfaces would interfere with the
lighting.
Just
outside the ring of logs, they'd set up a shrine to Donald "Bergie" Eidelberg:
his favorite surfboard rose from the ground like a California tombstone. The production crew had enlarged a photo of
him from the first episode and framed it with leis, which they hung on the
board. They'd spread one of his beach
towels in front it, and everyone had set some item on it that reminded them of
him: A canister of Sex Wax; ironic, considering that he claimed celibacy was absolutely
necessary for champion surfing. The
sunglasses Neeta had refused to let him wear into the warehouse, not that it
had helped. The surfing trophy he’d kept
by his nightstand--second place. The
painting he'd been working since the beginning of the show; they thought it
might be a wave. The keys to his classic
1978 AMC Pacer; he'd bragged that once he won the million, he was going to give
it the overhaul it deserved. Lawyer
Larry, whose real name was Eugene, had already put it up for auction on eBay,
with the proceeds to go to the Retired Surfers Association, in accordance with Bergie's
will.
Neeta
and her plebes had trooped to the site, accompanied by the filming crew, just
as the sun hesitated over the horizon, like a swimmer preparing to enter a cold
pool. As the sun dipped, then sank into
the horizon, they ate hot dogs, drank sodas and shared stories about their
fallen teammate. Roscoe waxed poetic
about his legs; Katie admitted to a secret crush. Gordon laughed how Bergie was going to teach
him surfing when this was all over in exchange for learning how to dum-dum
bullets. LaCenta rolled her eyes and
declared him a damfool, but her eyes misted when she said it. Spud, silent and thoughtful, said he'd go
visit Bergie's mom with Neeta before heading back to Idaho, and Nasir offered
to join them.
Within
the circle of logs, the campfire roared merrily, bathing Neeta and her plebes
in its warm light. Soon, they'd each light a candle from that
fire and hold it close as they discussed the day's tragedy. Dave was having paroxysms of joy over the
effect. Neeta wondered if he'd gotten
permits, planned to pay the fines, or had bribed someone to arrange this cozy
beach scene. Since the California Carbon
Footprint Reduction Act, such "eco-destructive luxuries" like
campfires had been banned.
From
her log apart from the others, LaCenta was complaining. "All I'm saying is that my family lost
everything in that fire and then the judge fined us for starting it, but oh,
let the Hollywood man want 'authenticity,' and they turn a blind eye."
Roscoe
sighed heavily. Perched on the log with
his feet flat on the sand, knees together, wrists resting on knees, wearing a
tailored white t-shirt and matching boat shorts, he looked like an out-of-pace
model. He insisted white was the Chinese
color of death and symbolized purity and nobility of the spirit, but Neeta
suspected he just wanted to stand out in the dim light.
"Give
it a rest, Placenta," he sneered.
"It's
LaCenta, and if you can't come up
with a more imaginative insult, Roscoe, you should just shut your hole."
"Which
one, honey?"
"Stop
it!" Katie shrieked. "We're
supposed to be saying goodbye to Bergie!" She buried her head into Spud's
shoulder and sobbed.
He
patiently reached into her backpack and handed her a tissue from the boxes
she'd brought with her. They'd started
the fire using the dirty ones as kindling.
Good
ol' Spud. Calm, dependable, and about as
exciting as potatoes. He could be good
at this job, Neeta thought. Yet every
week, Dave complained about his low ratings on the online polls. "Sure, people love potatoes!" he'd
ranted at one writing session, "but who really thinks about them?"
Gary
spoke up. "They like them with
something. Cheeseburger and fries."
"Steak
and potatoes," Wang added.
Dave
grinned that maniacal grin. "Potato
and gun! Yes! Yes! I'm seeing it! So what do we hook him up with? Who is our 'steak'?"
The
next day, Neeta had walked by LaCenta's trailer just in time to see Wang go
flying headfirst out the door.
"I
may have been raised in the hood, but I ain't no Hollywood whore!" she
shouted.
Neeta
had rounded up Gordon, and the two of them had a found Dave for a sandwich and
a talk. Rather, Neeta talked while
Gordon held Dave sandwiched between himself and the wall. Afterward, Spud found himself teamed with
Gordon as a weapons master apprentice, none the wiser of the behind-the-scenes
dealing. Dave had had to settle for
potato gun.
Now,
thanks to Bergie's death, it seemed Dave might get his steak and potatoes, too.
She was
really growing to loathe Dave.
, which she proudly states features Native American models. 
(Sounded like a fun premise - a town undertaker sees ghosts and now tries to solve the murder of a recently deceased client.)
(Been watching the show, Resurrection on TV, and hoping they don't spoil it. I thought it'd be longer than five episodes though! Wow, what TV can do for a book. I saw plenty of people buying this.)
(Oh! I see on the website it says there are photos of the actual fair in the book. I didn't look at that!) and....
(No wonder I looked at it. On her website she calls it "Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman Meets Walker Texas Ranger." I loved Dr. Quinn and yes, I watched Walker too!)
! She was kind enough to answer some questions for our Blogging A - Z Challenge this month, which I'm sure I'll be eternally grateful to her for doing so. Anyway, I've read both of Kristie's books and I highly recommend them, especially if you're into apocalyptic horror and science fiction (and enjoy a little romantic steam in your books as well!) The first book is free on most Ebook stores, so you have nothing to lose and everything to gain by checking out this new author!
