Get Zombie: 8-Book Set (69 page)

Polly’s
meal was screaming its way up her throat. Natalie put her hands on
the mannequin’s knees, and eased her head between her thighs.
Natalie let out soft MMMM’s as she worked, her buttocks
grooving up into the air.

The
mannequin didn’t move an inch – back arched,
face-forward, chest out, arms still up – frozen.

The
white thing was staring back at Polly, side-eyeing her with wide,
mortified eyes.

Polly
GASPED and leaned against the wall, slapping one hand over her lips
and one hand to her head, yanking on hair. Polly shook her head
violently, crying, emitting a whining sound.

Natalie
cheered, child-like, from between the cool thighs:

“Yaaaaaa!”

Polly
dry heaved and speed-tiptoed to the kitchen and threw her face into
the sink.

She
shoved a middle finger down her throat:

“BRRRRRRAKKKKK!”

No
matter how hard you try, you can’t vomit silently. It came out
like mud – thudding into the sink, drumming a little tune. Her
eyes watered – behind them images of Natalie bringing a
mannequin to orgasm like a horizontal fountain. Polly’s belly
contracted and the remaining ingredients came rolling forth.

Someone
was standing behind her, breathing heavily.

It
was Natalie, her eyes sleepy, her upper body swaying from
side-to-side.

She
looked like giving up.

Something
was in her hand….

An
electrical handsaw.

Polly
took a step back, hands blindly searching the counter for something
sharp.

Natalie
walked toward her, bringing the saw up and turning it on. Polly
caught a shriek in her throat. They tell you that in the remaining
few seconds of your life, everything flashes before your watery eyes.
But it isn’t so. The truth is, you think of nothing. NOTHING
comes to you. It’s all just a blank. You FEEL more than you
think. That sense of dread is what fills those watery eyes.

Polly
took a step forward and began to plead. But it did no good. Natalie
worked the tool, making tiny chopping motions. It was loud –
the very vibrations cutting through Polly’s stomach.

Natalie’s
eyes were drowsy.

Her
footing was clumsy.

Polly
had an idea –

NOW
OR NEVER!

She
gave Natalie a spinning jump kick to the head with a HI-YAA! and
headed for the door.

RUSHING
STEPS behind her and the loud BUZZZZZZZZZ of the machine.

Polly
turned the knob.

Locked.

She
turned around just in time to dodge the saw as it ROARED past her
face in slow motion and dug into the door.

A
neighbor outside yelled, “Shut up!”

People
below them hit their ceilings with their brooms.

Natalie
chased Polly around and around the living room like a merry-go-round.
Polly yelled back:

“HELP!
HELP!” – then, remembering that no one responds to Help –
“FIRE! FIRE!”

Natalie
screamed too, voice shaky as she chased:

“FIRE!
FIRE! FIRE HELP! YEEHAWW! TEE-HEE!”

Polly’s
legs were giving out – her knees clicked with each step.

She
looked over her shoulder. Natalie barked like a dog and
underhand-tossed the blaring electrical saw at her. Polly spun out of
the way and the tool CRASHED through the large, sliding glass door
like booming lightning.

Natalie
ran and stuck her head through the hole in the glass, screeching
“Sadness!” and clawing after the falling weapon.

AGAINST
BLACK: The electrical handsaw spins spins spins through the darkness
in slow motion, its buzzing fading away into an echo as a chilly
breeze whispers.

Natalie
SHRIEKED at Polly and pointed an accusing finger and chased her with
outstretched hands into the hallway. Polly ran into a room and
SLAMMED the door in Natalie’s face. She POUNDED and KICKED at
it. Polly pushed her back against the door and cried out.

“Natalie!
Natalie! Natalie! Natalie! Ohh, Natalie!”

Natalie
hit her head against the door over and over again. On the 10th blow,
her head BLASTED through. She said with a terrified voice on the
verge of tears: “God, forgive me for I know what I do!”

Polly
yelled out in horror and fell back onto her buttocks, crawling
backward.

Natalie
turned the knob with her mouth and kicked the door a strong one –
turning it into a zillion splinters. Then she stood there in the
doorway with her hands high above her head while making threatening
bear-like sounds. Polly sat there with her hands to her face and
shook her head, furiously.

Something
cold fell on her shoulder.

Polly
YELPED and looked to see the mannequin lady, looking down at her from
the bed with WIDE eyes. Polly cried bloody murder…and bolted
up, accidentally tripping on a toy duck (that went “Quack”,
depressingly) and fell down again, this time on her face with her
arms to her sides.

She
could hear Natalie say to the mannequin, as if to scold, “Sidney
Australia, you’re supposed to be asleep!”

Then
Polly heard another sound – a pathetic sob – “Wrrrrrrr,
wrrrrrrrr…” It sounded like a cow drowning in a bathtub.

Polly
didn’t move. Maybe Natalie thought she knocked herself out by
falling flat on her face. Polly didn’t dare move, listening as
Natalie’s feet walked over her.

Then
there were odd, slurping sounds. Then cracking sounds, as if Natalie
suddenly got hungry for crackers.

There
was a strange, ugly smell: like of dead things. And Polly wanted to
throw up again. She squinted of happy thoughts – like flowers
and naked man-porn.

Natalie
began to say things behind Polly’s back: about how much Polly
meant to her, how they were such good friends, and how badly Natalie
wanted to videotape Polly as she lay there. What she said next shook
Polly in the throat. Natalie wanted to do things to her as she lay
unconscious.

Polly’s
brain screamed RUN RUN RUN, FOOL!

But
she couldn’t move.

Natalie
went to the dresser and pulled out a video camera. The camera beeped
to life and the little red light on the front popped on. Natalie
aimed the camera at Polly, who shut her eyes.

Natalie
said something about sex being in everything and placed the camera on
Polly’s head. She could feel its gears turning, humming.

The
bed squeaked.

From
the corner of her eye, Polly saw Natalie rest the mannequin on the
ground. She shut her eyes again as Natalie walked over and picked the
camera up. Polly watched, cautiously, as Natalie threw down an empty
cassette case that was black on one side and yellow on the other. She
then popped a tape into the camera and videotaped the mannequin’s
disturbing face.

The
mannequin was frozen in a sitting position: face up to the ceiling,
legs crossed, arms out as if ready to fly fly fly.

Polly
hated herself right then and there – why couldn’t she
stop watching? Why couldn’t she turn away? Why didn’t she
just run? Ahhh, the mysteries of life. Natalie held the camera with
one hand, and used her other to grope the mannequin’s plump
chest. The globes were hard. Natalie knocked on them. The mannequin
groaned…then sighed, yet its face was still.

Natalie
put her fingers to the mannequin’s mouth and pulled out a
string of tiny white balls, which she ate. She then put the camera
down.

It
was aimed at Polly.

She
bolted her eyes shut.

Natalie
rolled the mannequin over onto its face – with its buttocks up
in the air – and picked up the camera again. She caressed the
hard buttocks in front of her with the back of her hand, and began to
make sexy sounds, like “Oooooh” and “Ahhhhhh”
and “Ttttttttttttttttt”.

Natalie put the camera on the small of the mannequin’s back,
aiming it at herself. She licked her lips and slid her hands down,
pleasuring the mannequin as well as herself.

Natalie’s
body began to convulse. She vomited onto the buttocks, yet kept her
eyes on the camera, holding her sensual face, her body moving up &
down in a sexy way.

“Ooooooooooh,
ahhhhhhhhh, aaaaaahhh. I’m sexy.”

The
mannequin began to drool and make interesting bird sounds in its
throat.

POLLY
THREW UP ON THE CARPET, YELLING AT THE SAME TIME. SHE JUMPED UP AND
SCREAMED AT THEM WITH HER ARMS FLAILING IN THE AIR AND THEN TURNED
AROUND AND RAN THROUGH A WALL.

Natalie
and the mannequin watched, motionless.

***

Polly
was in a dark room. She put her hands on her knees. She struggled to
breathe. She felt strong – particularly because she ran
straight through a wall. And now she was covered in white dust.

She
shook her head and kicked her feet to clean herself.

Polly
had to eat.

She
was hungry. First sustenance, then call the cops. Where was the
refrigerator? Polly hoped no one was home. She put her hands against
a wall and searched for a light switch. She kicked something warm and
furry – something that MEOWED in pain.

Polly
picked up the cat and kissed it on what she hoped was its nose. She
flicked a switch on the wall and found herself in the kitchen.
Putting the cat down, she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a
bowl of sliced cheesecake. On her 12th slice, she heard keys at the
door. Polly put everything back and washed her hands and ran into the
bedroom, hiding under the bed.

She
stayed there for hours, leaving when the newlyweds had done their
business and fell asleep.

Polly
drives me into Nuuanu Stream Park. She stops the car next to a small
cliff and begins to cry. I put my hand on her head, rubbing it.

“It’ll
be okay.”

I
can feel eyes staring at us from out open windows. She begins to tell
me how hard it all is. How I’ll never understand what she’s
been through. How she wanted to go back to possibly save those other
“people”. I tell her that she’s right, that she’s
a good person.

She
hugs me and kisses my cheek, saying how much I understand her and how
much she likes me, and how maybe we can have a bright future
together. I mess her hair up in a playful manner.

“Sure,
kid.”

She
rests her head on my shoulder.

“Wanna
make some extra cash?”

“Doing
what? If math is involved, I’m afraid I’d have to pass
gas. You see, I’ve used the Right Side of my brain so much, my
Left has gone malnourished.”

“How
would you like to work on a movie?”

My
eyes jump.

“Really?
I make movies for a living! I mean, I’m trying to. I’ve
got this film club-thingy, and we want to make a television show here
in Honolulu. I even made a horror movie, called “The Nundead”,
and I’m working on another one, too. It’s hard though,
because everyone works and doesn’t have much time. We need a
good producer.”

“Good,
good! You’ll fit in nicely.”

“So
who’s making this film? What is it about?”

“You’d
be working under me. I’m the producer, and our cinematographer
left due to creative difficulties. It’s a fun little movie. An
adult film. Should make us a lot of money.”

“An
adult film?”

“Is
that a problem?”

“Well,
it’s just, I’ve heard stories where people – the
crew – got ripped off. Like from their pay.”

She
laughs.

“That’s
not going to happen. This isn’t the Philippines.”

“Who
is this person you had problems with?”

“Natalie.”

“…”

“I
got her the job. But ever since she got into making her own Mannequin
Porn, she’s been going a tad batty. No one liked working with
her. I guess it all started once she began walking around set with a
case of orange soda under one arm and a mannequin’s torso under
the other. But not to worry. The others are nice people. Especially
me.”

“The
TOY Machine”

SHE
DRIVES ME HOME and we kiss goodnight with our tongues. My mom is
still asleep, as is my kid brother. I undress, sensually, and turn on
the fan and lay in bed, my mind working. Should I go into the adult
business? What am I going to tell everyone?

Nothing.

If
they ask, just say that you’re doing “Little things here
and there: Courtesy of the temp agency.” Then laugh it off and
change the subject – preferably about them, since people love
talking about themselves.

I
begin thinking back to what Polly said, about that black video case.

Could
it be the same one in the video store?

The
possibility of what’s on the tape teases my mind – even
though what I heard from Polly makes me sick in the tummy.

I
roll in bed – my eyes won’t close – I feel itchy
all over.

I
stay up the whole night.

AT
12PM I TELL MY mum I’m going to practice darts at Hawaiian
Brian's and head straight to the bus stop, where I take the #2 bus.

I
get off at the end of Waikiki and walk my way to DHV – the
whole time thinking about being a rich, famous figure in the adult
industry, yet somehow keeping my secret from everyone. Maybe I should
use a fake name: Like Dingus.

Or
maybe Stone Face. It would be a good name for a child, too. If the
child was to ever fall and crack its face off, it’ll frighten
off all the bullies and no one would want to steal my child’s
lunch money.

I
get looks as I walk into the adult aisle and it makes me nervous.
Still, I head forth with my chin held high. For they can smell fear.

I
walk to the shelf where I last saw the black cover.

It’s
still there, although a little sticky now. The price shocks me.

$1o?

So
cheap?

I
purchase it (holding out my I.D. before the cashier can even ask) and
head home.

At
night, while my mum is out partying in Waipahu and my brother is
partying at the church/school, I go downstairs and pop the tape into
the VCR.