The shambling horde had us surrounded. At least, that was how it felt. In truth, there were seven dead guys bumping into each other like billiard balls. Marty had been bitten by his ex-girlfriend and was sitting under a tree whining about how much it hurt.

“I think I have a fever,” he said pressing his palm to his forehead.

I tossed my purse at his feet.

“Dig out the aspirin. Take four,” I said as I pushed one of the zombies back with a broom.

“I don’t have any water,” Marty said. “Oh, wait. I found some. Thanks, Jane.”

I heard him fumbling with the child-proof cap.

“Shit,” he said.

“What?” I asked spinning one of the other zombies around as if we were playing pin the tail on the donkey.

“I spilled them.”

I looked back at Marty as I sent the dead man reeling through the yard.

“Just pick them up and eat them. It’s not like you’ll get any worse,” I said as I ducked a flailing arm. “And turn the radio back on. I want to know if they’re saying anything new.”

Marty gobbled the aspirin and flipped the switch on the weather radio.

“I repeat,” a voice said. “Spraying the dead with any type of alcohol neutralizes them.”

“Cover me,” I said and threw the broom to Marty.

I ran to the car we’d abandoned when we’d run out of gas. After pushing two zombie girls away from the back door, I flung the door open and grabbed two six packs I’d bought for the weekend. I shook one of the beers. Using the bottle opener on my key chain, I pried the cap off and turned to the dead girls I’d just shoved. The liquid spewed into their eyes and onto their faces. My jaw dropped when they shrieked once and fell to the ground.

I ran back to Marty and sprayed the remaining creatures that had cornered us.

“Hey, it works,” he said. “And I think my fever’s down.”

I felt his face. He didn’t seem to be on fire anymore. Just then, the radio crackled.

“If you’ve been bitten by the walking dead, do not go to a hospital. Find a bottle of aspirin or other fever reducer and double the recommended dose. I repeat…”

Marty looked up at me and blinked.

“You saved me,” he said. “How did you know?”

I shrugged.

“I didn’t. I just wanted to shut you up. Do you think you can walk?” I said looking down at him.

“I hope so, she only bit me on the hand.”

Rolling my eyes, I reached for his good hand and pulled him to his feet. I handed him a bottle in case we met any trouble on the way.

*

Rebecca Snow is a cat herder who loves zombies like they were family. Sometimes, she thinks they are..