THE ZOMBIE PLAYGROUND

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Brin opened her eyes to the sounds of chipping and chirping. She rolled off her bed and tumbled toward her upstairs window to see a bird resting on a tree branch. Its face and body were yellow, and its wings were Oreo black-and-white. She watched it jerk its head back and forth, before it dive bombed down toward the front lawn and disappeared across the street. Watching the bird take flight brought another sight into view down below: Paul hitting golf balls from one side of the lawn to the other. Brin smiled. Sometimes she forgot Paul was a vampire. Sometimes she thought of him as a little orphan boy who had never truly had a place he called home. Watching him take practice swings with the sand wedge, Brin knew that with each passing day, Paul was becoming more and more comfortable in Grisly, Nevada, and with her.

She yawned and pulled up her cell phone. They were to report to Macabre at 8:30 A.M. to be ready for a 9:00 tee-off, so Brin had set her alarm for 7:00. She blinked a few times. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

It was already 8:15.

“Oh shit!” Brin screamed, and raced into the bathroom to take a shower. 

Twenty minutes later, Brin entered the hall. She passed her mother’s bedroom on her way downstairs—the door was open and she could see her mom sleeping—but she decided not to wake her up. Her mom had seen some horrific things yesterday, and she felt it best to let her rest.

Brin opened the garage door and walked outside to see Paul still working on his swing.

“You’re not bad,” she said.

“Thanks. I’ve been golfing all the way back since the 1920’s.”

“The 1920’s? Well, then, you’ll probably be the best one on the course today.”

He shook his head. “Problem is I haven’t played since 1997. I may be a little rusty.”

“1997? I wasn’t even born in 1997.” Brin stared at him. “How old are you, Paul?”

“I’ve been around awhile, let’s leave it at that.”

Paul smiled and posed in his sleek attire. It was the first time she was able to get a proper look at his outfit. Paul was wearing one of her brother’s green golf shirts and a finely pressed pair of Dockers pants. His hair was slicked back and gelled, and a white golf glove was already dangling off his left hand.

“I found your brother’s golf clubs. I was hoping I could borrow them?”

“Yes, of course.” She didn’t—couldn’t—turn away from him. “Wow.”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just… you look so… human.”

“Nothing makes you look more human, or dopey, than golf clothes.”

“You don’t look dopey.” She took a step forward and grabbed his sand wedge. “Grab the bag. We’re late.”

Paul slung the bag over his shoulder and followed Brin to the garage. She couldn’t help but laugh as she placed her golf bag in the trunk.

“What?” Paul said, placing his bag on top of hers.

“If someone had ever told me I was going to play a round of golf one day with a vampire, I think I would’ve asked for a peek into that overactive imagination.”

Paul closed the trunk. “Well… here I am.”

“There you are. All right, let’s do this. Let’s play some golf.”