It's almost Halloween! Have you been keeping up with poor Deb and Dave and Jake and Mary? And remember – if zombies aren't your thing check out some of the favorite posts and my favorite blogs in the column on the right. Coast of Illinois will return to normal on November 1!
Jake looked from Debra's back to Dave’s body, laid out on the couch and shook his head. Outside, the zombies muttered and milled around in groups of twos and threes as Mary groaned.
For the next hour, Jake split his time between the front and back of the house. He found it odd that the creatures made no attempt to enter but even odder that their groups were divided by sex. The females hovered close to the windows, kitchen and back laundry. The males grouped a little further away. In the back of the house, Dave slept the sleep of a minor head trauma. He stirred now and then, moaning in tune to those outside. An older female with long hair on half her head looked into the back living room, watched Dave’s nearly motionless figure but when Mary cried out from the upstairs bedroom, the creature moved away stopping several feet away from the house with its head tipped back, vacant eyes staring towards second story.
“Deb, things okay up there…with Mary and stuff?” he called up the stairs before moving to the front of the house.
“We’re good Jake. I’ll holler when it’s time.” Deb called back.
Mary sat propped up on the bed. Deb had covered the mattress with plastic and then padded the entire thing with old blankets. The contractions were coming fast and Mary was beginning to feel overwhelmed. She gripped the blanket with white knuckles. Through clenched teeth she said, "Are we going to be able to do...what we need to?"
Deb peeked out the window, on the ground stood two females. They held hands, swaying back and forth, never letting their gaze move from the upstairs window. With each of Mary’s moans, they swayed faster. "I guess we'll find out...when the time comes. Jenna in Denver managed and last check in she and the baby were just fine."
“God, Deb…I…think this is it…” Mary gasped as a second flood of liquid flowed onto the sheets. Mary grabbed her knees as Deb instructed her to push.
“Jake, it’s time…” Debra shouted as she moved to the end of the bed. She grabbed a dry towel and began to slip it under her friend’s hips to protect her from the wetness of the birth fluids but something was wrong. The fluid, normally clear to slightly cloudy and pink was grey. The pattern of drying liquid on the sheets looked horribly similar to the puddle the dying zombie had left on the snow. Doubt formed a tiny shadow over Deb's eyes. They had to do this. No matter what.
“Deb…I can’t do this.” Mary began to twist on the bed as the baby moved down the birth canal.
Debra had delivered hundreds of babies over her career. This was nothing new. As delivery got closer most moms began to panic. It was best to give them something to do. “Push Mary.” She said and hoped her voice was stronger than it sounded in her head.
Mary pushed and Deb could see the baby’s head. Mary cried out and immediately pushed again. The baby slipped out and onto the bed in another puddle of grey fluid. Debra rapidly assessed the infant – ten fingers, ten toes, umbilical cord intact. She tied the cord in two places and with a sharp knife left upstairs for just this task, she cut the cord.
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