Short Story: Christmas Zombies

Somehow the zombies are worse around the holidays. I can’t explain why. I mean, I live in Atlanta, which is known for our bad zombies.  When I go to other parts of the country for trips and they talk on the radio about their zombies, I look around and just have to laugh.  What they consider a horde we call a good day here in Atlanta!

I creep around 285, growling at the shamblers who are in my way. I really wish these zombies would just get out of my way so I can get home. Tonight we’re having the relatives over – not my relatives… well I guess I married into it so I can’t complain too much.  But I will complain to myself here and now.  In my car, I will rant and rave.

There are two types of zombies that are especially obnoxious – the shambers. Those slow-moving-always-in-the-way zombies that are EVERYWHERE.  They don’t seem to go anywhere and they just get in the way.  Singly they are easy enough to get around, but they love to herd up and make everything just STOP. All you can do is scream and wail and try to weave through them. Sometimes easier said than done.

Then there are the blockers. I swear these zombies do it on purpose. They see you coming and just – Pop! – suddenly in front of your car and seem to read your mind. When you try to go to the right – they go to the right. You go to the left – they go to the left.  Not as slow as a shambler, they wear away at your patience.

My patience is nearly done today.  The shamblers really come out during the holidays. I know, I said it before. I’ll say it until I’m blue in the face.  Today was full of shamblers and this one terrible blocker. I just could not get around this zombie!  As I pull into my neighborhood I heave a sigh of relief.  Almost home.

I pull into the driveway to see the shambler I nearly went full-on-road-rage on –  in my driveway.  That blue hatchback with a bumperstick that says “My child is a super star at Forest Academy”… there’s a zombie in my family.