Jim pulled at the flesh flaking off his face. It was itching like crazy. He knew he shouldn’t have let himself be talked into wearing so much make up and fake skin. Sure, he looked the part of a zombie, but he was completely uncomfortable and probably having some kind of allergic reaction besides.
The zombie contacts were killing his eyes, making them red. Which okay might be a nice effect for his costume, but he was miserable and his eyes were watering and making his make up run.
And don’t even get him started on the zombie wig. His head itched something awful and he’d began to wonder if it really was new and not used as the Halloween shop guy had claimed.
He had managed to secure himself a spot in the corner of the party, where he sipped lightly at a cocktail with a beating heart. Okay it was really just a cherry but that’s what the bartender had called the drink, the Beating Heart.
Jim was sorry he’d come. No one he’d been told would be there had shown up. The band, the Crimson Ghoulies, were pretty awful.
“Brainssssss.”
Jim rolled his eyes. Ever since he’d arrived partygoers had been coming up to him and yelling BRAINSSSS in his face. He was over it.
But when he glanced over at the latest one, it was someone else dressed in a zombie costume, fairly similar to his.
“Uh, yeah. Brains. Hungry for them.”
The other zombie stared blankly at him. He had his arms outstretched toward Jm.
“Brainsssss.”
“Yeah, brains. I get it. We’re both dressed like zombies.” Jim didn’t recognize the guy, but there were plenty of people at the party he didn’t know. He gestured with his thumb. “Bartender’s there in the back if you want to get a drink. I think he’s got one called Brains.”
The zombie guy continued to stand in front of Jim, his mouth hanging partway open. He smelled too, a bit like rotting flesh. Jim shivered.
“I think you’re taking the zombie thing a bit far, buddy.”
“Brainssss.”
“Beat it, dude. I’m not interested.”
And as Jim was about to turn away and ignore the guy, a hooded figure came up behind him and shoved what looked like a Vulcan weapon straight through the middle of the guy. He collapsed at Jim’s feet, his now oozing flesh beginning to steam.
“Holy crap, what—”
The guy lowered his hood and looked calmly at Jim. “He was indeed a zombie.”
“What?”
“I am Spock of Vulcan, a zombie slayer, if you will. Come with me.”
“Huh?”
Spock sighed. “This area of Earth is about to be overrun with zombies. I have a ship that will take us away from Earth while the zombie apocalypse takes place. You will be safe with me.’ He paused. “Or would you prefer to take your chances with him?”
Jim looked down at the now disintegrating creature. “Oh my God. That’s so gross.”
“Jim.”
He looked back up at the Vulcan. “You know my name?”
“I know everything about you. There is little time and you may wish to remove your costume. Come.”
“How’d you know I wasn’t a real zombie?” Jim asked, moving away from the corner where he was to follow Spock.
“As a slayer, I have the ability to distinguish them.”
“I still don’t understand—”
They got into the lift.
“Other than that guy, everyone else seemed normal.”
Spock nodded. “He is the start of it. Or is among those that are the beginning here in San Francisco. I would rather we leave and get you to safety before the city is overrun.”
“Me? Why?”
“You are…important to me. Once I have gotten you to safety, I will return to do my slayer duty.”
“But—”
The lift opened and Spock grabbed Jim’s arm and tugged him out and down a corridor. At the end of that was a door and he pulled Jim through.
A ship waited there.
A man Jim thought he had seen before in Starfleet stood outside the doors of the ship.
“You got him, then?”
“Yes, Mr. Scott.”
The door of the ship opened, and a tall, slim, dark skinned woman emerged. She smiled. “Thank goodness, Spock. You got your T’hy’la?”
“Yes, Nyota.”
Jim was brought on board and there were others there too.
Spock pointed. “There is the refresher. You can go in there to clean up. A change of clothes awaits you.”
“Spock, who are these people?”
“My crew. Other zombie slayers. Go, Jim. We are about to leave.”
Shaking his head, confused and a little wasted from alcohol, Jim went into the refresher to shower and remove all evidence of the costume. He ripped at the horrible contacts first.
He stared at himself in the mirror. His heart pounded hard in his chest as he felt movement under his feet. The ship was taking off.
“Well, Jim, you wanted excitement and adventure. Guess you’re about to get it.”
He got in the shower, closed his eyes and let the water wash away the grime of the make up. But then he opened them quickly. If there were zombies out there, he’d better be on his guard.
After he was finished and dressed in the clothes left for him, Jim exited the refresher.
Spock waited for him. “Teach me,” Jim said. “I want to learn to be a zombie slayer.”
Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto) 