Zombie! Cruise Ship Disaster: Memoir of Lilly Delarose

Chapter 2: Midget Handed Pumpkin Creep

"Where the hell is my damn driver?" muttered Victor, pacing around the apartment with the television off.

"I told you my meeting's at eleven o'clock. That means be ready at ten thirty exactly," said Victor, waiting for a call that would never come, with no idea that the city streets below were beginning to spread with infection.

"I'm done wasting time," said Victor, opening the door to leave his apartment. "He better be waiting for me when I get down there.

"Whoa!" gasped Victor, startled by a short old lady hunched over on the other side of the door so he could only see her balding scalp.

"Misses Carlson?" asked Victor as the little old lady slowly lifted her head until he could finally see her expressionless face. "Jeez, Misses Carlson. You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Oh, Victor, I was just looking for you," smiled Misses Carlson with life coming back to her eyes.

"Is he stuck in the tub again?" sighed Victor. "You know, you folks really need to install a rail so I don't have to keep coming over every time one of you slips."

"I can't seem to find Mister Rogers."

"Who? Roger?"

"Oh, yes! You've seen him?"

"Misses Carlson, he flew away."

"He did? But he forgot his little cardigan."

"Have a good day, Misses Carlson."

"Where are you going?"

"I have to work, Misses Carlson."

"Oh, I wouldn't go out there."

"Okay, Misses Carlson."

"Young kids always causing trouble," said Misses Carlson, shuffling back to her apartment.

"Every day with those two," said Victor, taking the elevator down to leave the building. "Do they think I'm their son or something? I really hope I'm never that old and senile.

"Where the hell is the car?" yelled Victor, finding an empty space in front of the building. "That moron! Hope he doesn't think I'm taking a cab. And I'm not walking three blocks in a suit.

"I'm telling you, he's not gonna be happy when I get a hold of him," said Victor, taking out his cell phone to go through his contacts. "What's his name? Is this him? He better answer his phone.

"Where the hell is everyone?" said Victor, looking around the deserted streets instead of listening to the phone ring.

"Hello?" said Victor, bringing the phone up to his ear. "Voicemail? Hello! Is this voicemail? This is Victor Straus! Where the hell are you? I'm gonna be late!

"Who does this guy think I am?" said Victor, pacing around in front of the Straus Tower before calling his driver again.

"You have reached the voicemail of Mister Thompson from NEC Limousine. Please leave a message after the tone. Beep."

"Why don't you answer your damn phone!" yelled Victor. "You think I'm gonna walk myself?

"I'm already sweating and this idiot's gonna make me walk three blocks with all the weirdos down here," said Victor, slinging his suit jacket over his shoulder and heading to his meeting on foot.

"Last chance," said Victor, getting ready to call his driver one more time. "Oh, great! Twenty percent? I just charged this thing last night! Didn't I? This guy better answer before I kill someone."