Tomahawks & Zombies by Beausoleil Joe

Author:Beausoleil, Joe [Beausoleil, Joe]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Zombies
Published: 2012-07-31T04:00:00+00:00

February 2

Kirtland, New Mexico.

Spent most of the day in silence, watching the scenery drift by and thinking about how the military helped us and then turned on us, thinking about the chances of finding Dave, thinking about home.

It’s just after dusk, we were looking for a safe spot to stop for the night as we approached a small town The neon sign of a dinner was on; the parking lot protected by a chain link fence, the gate manned by a couple guys with hunting rifles. Other then the gate, it seemed as if the events of these last few weeks haven’t touched this place, no plywood over the windows, nothing baring the door, once inside it looked like nothing has touched this place since the 60’s. A time capsule of red vinyl booths, green faux marble Arborite table tops, a long counter lined with chrome, round stools, and uniformed waitresses, one of which pointed us to a booth.

Confused we numbly obeyed.

“Welcome to the All Safe café,” she said snapping her gum and expertly sliding menus our way, “Can I get you boys something to drink?”

Her name tag says ‘Judy’, about 35 years old, nice eyes, hair a little big, like she was keeping a reminder of how much fun she must have had in the 90’s.

“Orange juice?”

“It’s from concentrate,” She said with lament.

“Good enough.”

On the front of the menu there was a thick black line through the name “Evert’s” in its place are the words “All Safe.” Dinner is still there in the original font.

“Evert?”

Judy shock her head sadly, “He didn’t make it.”

Ron chimed in, “What is this place? We haven’t seen anything like this since this whole thing started.”

“Business as usual,” she said as she snapped her gum, “if you can’t order chicken n’ waffles then zombies have won. We are all independently owned and operated. We just trade what we have extra for what we need with the other All Safes.”

She flipped over the menus to show us the hand drawn map pointing out other All Safe Café locations.

Seven in total.

“You’re not going to drug our food and steal our truck are you?” I half joked. I didn’t know about this place, it’s …it’s normal. Do they know how bad it is out there?

“No, sir.”

“The bacon isn’t really people is it?” You never know.

“100% Canadian bacon, but we are out of sausage.”

“Where we’re from its just called bacon,” Ron said with a wink.

“I always wondered that. You boys are a long ways from home.”

We watch her walk off; it’s hard not to stare. We haven’t seen a sexy strut for a while. Judy knows how to walk.

The prices.

High.

Ridiculously high.

Ron started to complain.

“Ron, buddy,” I held up some cash for added emphasis, “It’s all worthless.”

Judy made her way back with our orange juice. It tasted so good, sweet and cold. Better than warm water or pop which is all we’ve had for the longest time.

“The menu…” Judy cut Ron off before he could complain her hands on her hips like she has heard it all before.

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