ILL SUITED FOR TRAVEL

They had arrived late. Too late.

All of them had been slow to leave when word first came. They dawdled and balked and argued. By the time they'd started to go, clouds were already gathering.

They had not left together of course. They did not live near each other. But they had met along the way, just as it was beginning to sprinkle. At that point there has been six of them, each of them and a mate. Except the apstroplopoid. It bred asexual, chewing its own body in half, both halves then re-growing the parts it was missing. But the message said “two,” so two came along. (All of them were unsure about the “clean” vs. “unclean part.” Should they send seven? All had decided it was arrogant to assume one was considered clean.)

They didn't see many others. Occasionally birds would pass over head. They could afford to wait until the last minute. Two cheetahs streaked past at one point. Their small group were not build for speed or travel. The bubuolumps were spherical and fat, moving on four tiny stubby legs. As the rain grew heavier, their low-slung heads dragged through puddles. The qu'luktrixes dragged themselves forward, each one of their five arms in turn stretching out and grabbing onto the ground with its sharp hooks and pull the flat star-shaped body further along. Its shaggy long hair became wetter and heavier, becoming thick with mud. The two apstroplopoids normally spent their entire lives in small communal pits, a hundred to a hole in just a pile of eating and rubbing against each other. Their tubular bodies rolled in a lopsided zig-zag more than anything else.

One of the apstroplopoids was the first to give up. “I'm not needed. You carry on. We've been moving up hill the entire way so I am going to just roll back. Hopefully I will make it back to my pit before... well, you guys know.” And with that it curled up and let gravity take it backward.

A mud and rock slide killed the female bubuolump, crushing her with a pop under a runway bounder. They rest waiting while the male cried for its dead mate (bubuolumps normally mated for life). They waited in the rain while he grieved and sobbed and snarkufffled. Eventually he slunk back to them.

“Do you want to continue?” asked the female qu'luktrix. “I mean, not to be insensitive or anything, but you are just one no. Is there really a point? I am sure they'd understand.”

He thought for a second. “I want to continue and see this through. I'd hate to be remembered for just giving up. Besides, she'd have wanted me to continue on.”

They kept moving towards their destination, through the mud. But they had a long way to travel and all were meat eaters but each only hunted slow, easy prey. On their travel they came across little and grew hungrier and hungrier. Eventually they were all too tired to move any farther.

“Look,” declared the male qu'luktrix, trying to wash his fur in a dirty puddle. “We have a choice. We can all just stay here and see if we starve or drown first. Or you three can eat and still have a shot of making it. It's not that far now.”

“But, love, what shall we eat?” asked the female qu'luktrix.

“Me, my dear. Eat me.”

An argument followed. The rest decried the very thought, how it was better to just die together than do such a thing. But he was steadfast on that course and his rational argument eventually won them over. The female qu'luktrix only ate one of his arms, unable to think about chewing down anymore. The other two guiltily ate two each. All of them politely declare that he was delicious and filling even though he was mostly gristle and fur.

They kept moving but the waters were rising and none of them could swim. At first the tried to stay on high ground but the waters kept getting higher and higher. They finally discovered the the bubuolump could float and the other two could hold on to him. He almost drowned a couple of time as his round body kept rolling over, plunging his head beneath the water. But through trial and failure they discovered a way to keep balanced. It then took them a while to find a method of moving through the water. It was slow, cold going.

The rain was falling in thick sheets when they arrived at their destination, making seeing farther than ten feet difficult. They were all very tired but the water covered the ground. They swam (if you could call it that) to a bit of a tree that still extended above the water. They climbed onto the branches, stripped bare by the rain, and huddled together for warmth.

After an hour the rain let just enough so that they could see some distance. Far away on the growing waves was a boat. A massive wooden boat. On the deck they could just make out elephants and giraffes and other large animals. It was too far for the three of them to hear any noise (especially over the rain) so they did not bother yelling out.

“How long do you think we missed them by?” mused the apstroplopoid.

“Well, we've been here about and hour,” figured the qu'luktrix. “At the rate it is floating away... I'd guess thirty, forty minutes.”

The bubuolump sighed. “Kind of anti-climatic. But I suppose there is some honor in the trying.”

“I'd much rather have survived,” snapped the apstroplopoid.

“You would have thought they would have planned better,” murmured the qu'luktrix. “Given more warning to use that traveled slower. Or at least left a dingy or some such behind. Wouldn't have had to been much.”

“Well,” said the bubuolump, “life is full of disappointments.”

The apstroplopoid and the qu'luktrix nodded in agreement. And they watched as the rain began to fall heavy again, obscuring the retreating boat behind sheets of water.

Untitled Zombie Novel Excerpt: ZOO

"I thought you said it didn't affect animals!" Phil screamed as he held the doors shut against the headbutts of the beast. "That's what you said!"

Dr. Belaus was already scanning the gardening shed for weapons. "It never had before," she stated in her always calm voice that annoyed the fuck out of Phil. "Fascinating. It may be a new strain. I don't know. This changes a lot." Belaus found what she was looking for on the bottom shelf of a work bench in the back of the shed.

"You think?! Because those are god damn undead giraffes! Giraffes!" Phil put his back into the doors and tried to reach an arm out to a rake to put through the handles and hold them shut. "Some help, Doctor?" Right then the doors stopped thumping.

Phil took the opportunity to quickly lean forward, grab the rake and lock the doors. He stopped moving, listen through the thin wood walls of the shed. He could hear the clop clop of the long legs of the giraffes outside. He looked around the shed for weakness. Belaus's back was to him at the workbench, fiddling with something. Then he saw the shelving until up against the wall. It was not the unit that made him panic. It was the small dirt covered window behind it.

"Shit!" He ran to the shelves and tried to see outside. The window was seven feet up and only slim light was filter through the dust. He couldn't make anything out at first and stood on the bottom shelf to bring his head to the windows height. He could make out movement.

The glass suddenly shattered and Phil tumbled backward has the shelves toppled over on top of him. The rotting giraffe head pushed in on it's lanky rank neck. It tried to bend down and bit at him, snapping its narrow mouth and broad herbivore teeth. It couldn't quite get to him due to the angle of the window the shelves, but Phil was also trapped.

He tried to get a hand around to the large hunting knife on his belt, the the shelves were pinning his arm. "Belaus! Fuck! Help!"

He heard her almost mumble, "Yes, yes," and then heard two chokes of a small motor attempting to start. Then the loud roar and the buzz of a chainsaw. The doctor had a small chainsaw in her hands.

"Yes! Kill this fucker!" Phil yelled as viscera of the giraffe's mouth and rotting face dripped into his face,

"I can't get a good angle on the head. It's moving too much and I worry and hurting you. Mmmm."

"Do something!"

Belaus moved long the neck, at seven feet of which stretched into the room and up to the window. With a surgeons precision she maneuvered the whirring chainsaw through the neck. It fell free from the body and from the window. Phil shoved the shelves up and rolled out from underneath them. The neck was still moving, like a mad stiff snake, still trying to get at Phil.

"Ah," declared Belaus. "Perhaps I should have but cut so low."

"You fucking think?!" Phil grabbed the first thing he could get to: a ten pound sledge hammer. He slammed his foot on the neck just below the head to hold it still and raised the sledge above his head. He brough it down with al his force, splattering his legs with giraffe skull and flesh.

Belaus was looking out the window. "Phillip, we may have a problem." Over the noise of the chainsaw Phil heard it: a wet trumpet-like roar, unmistakably the angry cry of an elephant.