Zomopolis

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Hanson stood behind the counter leaning his weight on the broom handle watching Elvis Bushwood hustle the handcuffed zombie out the front door of his diner. The new sheriff had already left ahead of her deputy through the same door.

He began to sweep the tiled floor with the broom. He’d washed it only this morning but the scuffle with the zombie had left behind traces of dead skin. As he swept a small pile of gray skin began to form in front of the brooms bristles.

Zom’s sure are messy. He was glad now he bought Joe’s place rather than one of the zombie-only diners in town.

Aloha Armstrong seemed like a bit of a stuffed shirt, but there was something about her he liked, besides her tight uniform.

Like him she seemed tough and no nonsense. I like that in a woman.

It impressed him Aloha was able to handle herself so well with that out of control zom.

He’d been in Zomopolis for only a few months and had learned quickly that loose lips led to uncomfortable questions about why he came to town and where he was from. He wasn’t about to reveal his real reason for being in Zomopolis until he had solid evidence.

His father had been the sheriff before Aloha and after he disappeared so mysteriously Hanson bought the diner from the owner for twice what it was worth. The previous owner thought he was crazy to pay such an inflated price, but he had to have an excuse to question every human resident in town. His plan worked and he’d soon spoken to about half the towns human residents.

“I still think you make a cute couple,” said Albert with a suggestive wink.

Hanson looked up from the pile of gray skin in front of the broom not realizing he’d been so lost in thought. Albert McDok had sat in the booth in all morning. He smiled at him and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Hey, Mr. McDok.” Hanson smiled thinly. “What was that?” He asked as if he hadn’t heard the dirty old man.

“I said you and the new sheriff make a cute couple.”

Hanson cheeks grew warm. “I don’t even know her.”

McDok chuckled. “What’s that got to do with the price of pie? I chased the late Mrs. McDok half way cross the country before she agreed to marry me.”

Hanson’s mouth formed a wry smile and one eyebrow rose. “So you stalked her?”

Mr. McDok raised any eyebrow. “We called it courting in my day.”

Hanson stopping sweeping and set his chin on the broom handle both hands gripping the shaft. “Alright, since you’re such an expert what should I do?”

“Do what Russell Crowe or Mel Gibson would do, go after her.”

“Right now?”

McDok shook his head. “And you’re waiting for what, exactly?”

Hanson leaned the broom against the counter. Albert’s right. He should go after her. Getting knowing her better would help him find out what she knows about his father’s disappearance. If he befriended her, and she found any evidence, maybe she’ll tell him what she’d discovered before anyone else.

His waitress, Betty Strongbow, had returned to work after the zombie incident and was standing at the other end of the counter making a fresh pot of coffee.

“Hey, Betty.” She looked up from the coffee pot at him. Her gray eyes were curious. “I’m going out. I shouldn’t be long.” I hope.

Before he could untie the apron tied around his waist there was a screech of brakes from the street. Hanson reacted out of pure instinct and raced out the door in time to see a delivery truck about to run into the rear of the sheriff’s Volkswagen Beetle patrol car.

He clearly saw the patrol car would be shoved up onto the sidewalk and then run directly into Aloha. She would be killed for sure.

The ear splitting screech of metal striking metal affected him like a bell to a prizefighter. He leapt into action and covered the distance between himself and Aloha faster than he’d ever moved in his life.

He tackled her football style at mid waist his arms wrapped around her slender waist. She grunted in surprise and locked together they flew across the cement just as the Beetle filled the spot where she’d been standing. The car slammed into the side of the red brick bank building next to the diner with a sharp bang and a rendering of metal as the bumper absorbed the impact. The Beetle’s front window cracked in a spider web pattern.

Lying on top of Aloha Hanson he looked back at the car’s crumpled front end now imbedded in a mound of broken bricks where the wall of the zombie repair shop next his restaurant used to be. He was breathing hard and his heart still beat rapidly in his chest. The car was so a write off. The sheriff’s not going to like it.

He rolled off her and realized she her head had impacted the cement sidewalk. She was unconscious but still breathing.

Oh, oh. I think I hurt her.

He looked around and spotted the deputy standing beside his tricked out pickup truck with the zom from the diner. He stared his eyes wide at what had just happened. “Hey, Elvis! A little help here.”