Tales Of The Zombie Girl
By The Captain
Not all those displaced from New Orleans were living creatures!


Part 1 - The Arrival Of Zombie Kid

The disasters in New Orleans had displaced thousands of people. Since I had a
spare bedroom I threw my name in the hat via email to help out. I figured that
I'd get some single guy waiting for his family to surface. Boy was I wrong! My
first clue that my life had taken a turn towards the weird was when a couple
of odd looking folks in a beat-up moving van dropped off a dirt-covered box
onto my front lawn and then drove off without a word. At midnight.

On top of the five-foot by two-foot by two-foot crate was a small black book
covered in some kind of skin that looked like a very strange owners manual.
What made it hard to understand was that part of the book was written in
French. Stuffed in the book was a hand-written note that said that I had been
selected as a suitable guardian and that the normal caretakers would return as
soon as possible to recover the occupant of the crate. I was instructed to
provide some interaction and place of rest.

I was worried about what I might find since I could see no air holes in the
crate. But clearly something was inside that they expected me to take care of.
I grabbed the crowbar that I kept in my van and started to pry off the boards.
A few minutes later found me staring at a very sick joke. Inside the crate was
some form of four-foot tall mannequin or doll that reminded my a lot of that
little girl from the Adams Family movies. I thumbed through the book and found
something called an "enchantment of waking."

Feeling like a total idiot, I mumbled the words at the doll. I smiled when, as
I expected, nothing happened. By now it was almost one o'clock, so I started
to clean up, figuring I could stuff the doll in my front room for now. I was
bent down, picking up the boards I had removed from the crate when I heard
something move. I looked up to find the doll staring down at me. How the hell
had she moved so silently? How had she moved at all? I fell back into the
grass, terror washing over me like a hurricane. The doll stepped forward and
reached out it's hand to me.

She wanted to help me up? What a polite spawn of the devil she was! After
several minutes I grabbed her small white had and was surprised by how
effortlessly she pulled me to my feet. She let go of my hand and stepped back.
We stared at each other for several minutes. I did all the blinking. This
couldn't be happening, it was like something out of a horror movie. Then it
hit me, not only were the living displaced, but whatever voodoo generated
monsters that roamed the dark places of New Orleans were too. And someone
thought I would make a good guardian for this?

I picked up the boards and tossed them into the now empty crate. Carefully
putting the slim book in my pocket, I reached out to drag the crate into the
garage. Well, that was my plan. This thing weighed a ton! Then I noticed that
the wood looked like it has been soaked in water. It would dry out in a couple
of days, but I didn't want any questions. Not until I figured a way to contact
the folks who dropped my guest off and had them pick her up. I looked at the
doll and said, "Little girls like to show off how strong they are. I can't
move this because it's too heavy for me. Impress me by dragging this into my
garage."

For a moment she remained motionless, and then with an unearthly grace she
walked over to the crate and picked it up like it was a school book. She
casually walked into my garage and found a place for the crate. As she started
to walk back towards me, for reasons I still don't understand, she began to do
a series of cartwheels and ended up with a backflip that would have made a
world-class gymnast jealous. There was more going on here than I could see.

We walked back inside my house and I dropped onto the couch. She stood in the
middle of the room as if waiting for my next command. I sighed. Time to read
the book. It took an hour to force my way through some of the parts that were
in English. Thankfully it looked like most of the important instructions were
in both English and French. At the end I had gained a small understanding of
what I had. She was more of a zombie than a doll, but she wasn't an animated
human body. How her body was constructed was only hinted out, but it did
involve blood and fire.

What was inside of her, what animated her, was something beyond my mundane
world. According to the book there were dozens of "restless spirits" from
those who had died too soon. Well, maybe not individual spirits, more like the
energy residue. I couldn't understand and figured that I didn't want to. There
was some kind of vague warning about food and sunlight, which reminded me of
the gremlin movie. The book gave me no clue why an ultra-goth zombie girl
would have a playful side to her. Eventually the smell of salt- water reached
me.

I got off of the couch and walked over to the zombie girl. She remained
motionless as I felt one sleeve of her pitch-black blouse. I sighed again. It
was still soaked from the flood. I marched her into the bathroom and showed
her the shower. "Do you know how to work this?" She nodded yes. "OK, I'm going
to go out into the hall, put your clothes in this basket and push it into the
hall. Wash up and shampoo your hair. It'll look nicer after it's cleaned and
combed. I'll throw your clothes into the laundry, but you'll finish before
they're dried, so here a robe to put on."

After starting the washing machine I went into the kitchen and grabbed a beer.
For a while I just stood there looking out into the darkness. I had something
not human taking a shower in my bathroom. And I hoped she didn't use up all of
my shampoo. I walked back into the front room and dropped down on the couch.
My eyes closed for a minute and then I realized she was standing in front of
me. Again she had moved with total silence. When she saw that I was looking at
her she twisted her head back and forth, causing her long black, freshly
washed hare to flow like a model on a TV commercial. "Now that's much better,
you really have very pretty hair. I bet you feel better too with all of the
salt washed off. Hey, I just remembered! I've got some stuff leftover from a
niece who visited me last summer. I bet some of it will fit."

I went over to the hall closet and rummaged around until I found the trashbag
I was looking for. "Here we go! None of this is black, but I think you can be
out of uniform since you're just waiting to go back home. Put on whatever you
like. I wait for you in the front room." The couch received me once again. She
must have tried out every possible combination because it was nearly thirty
minutes later when zombie girl finally walked out of the bathroom. I know I
had seen these cloths on my niece, but never in this exact combination, and
zombie girl was a little larger in certain areas than my twelve-year-old
relative. Since my niece was nearly five foot six zombie girl had plenty of
room.

The gray sweatshirt and faded bluejeans she had selected made her look a
little more human. That is until you looked at the inhuman whiteness of her
face and hands. She had even put on a pair of thick pink socks. Did zombies
get cold feet? I smiled, "That looks great! But I'm afraid that I've got to
get some sleep, tomorrow is a work day for me. You're my guest, so you're free
to do whatever you want. I don't know if zombies read, but if you do there's a
bunch of science-fiction books. All I ask is that you keep out of sight. The
last thing I need is a bunch of questions I can't answer." With that I waved
at her and went to bed.

Hours later I woke up in the darkness, sure I had heard someone whispering to
me. But when I turned on the light I was alone and the meaning of the words
had vanished. Then I noticed that the big dictionary that was normally next to
my computer had been taken. Great, the zombie girl who couldn't speak was
improving her vocabulary. I turned off the light and forgot about it. My
dreams were filled pale-faced children who seemed to be asking me questions I
couldn't hear.

The alarm woke me at the usual hour and I stumbled through my normal morning
routine. The hot shower washed part of the haze from my brain and then I
realized I was smelling food. I quickly dressed and discovered breakfast
waiting for me on the kitchen table. As I sat down zombie girl brought me a
tall glass of orange juice. "You continue to amaze me, this is fantastic," I
remarked after tasting the omelet she had cooked, "It figures that a zombie
from New Orleans would know how to cook! You're going to make someone a great
... wife or ... whatever it is that zombie girls do. Wait a second, I don't
remember having any orange juice!"

She spun around and pointed to the trash can, inside were the remains of
dozens of oranges. She must have gone out back and climbed the orange tree.
"Come here," I said softly. Instantly she was standing inches away from me. I
reached out and took her hands in mine. In the daylight they didn't seem quite
as small as they did last might. I searched her face for some sign of emotion
and found only the perfect calm of the artificial. The rest must have helped
because her skin didn't look quite as white as it did before. She was still
pale, but now looked more like an albino than a painted doll.

"Thank you," I said, "You didn't have to do all this work, you're my guest.
OK, I won't contact the people who sent you here. You can stay as long as you
need to. This must be a terrible thing for you, uprooted from you normal life
and dumped off with some stranger. And the first thing I say is that I want to
get rid of you. I'm sorry, I just need to get used to having a guest who is
walking zombie." I let go of her hand and sighed, "Do you forgive me?"

In a motion too quick for me to follow, she leaned forward and wrapped her
arms around me. Again I was surprised by how strong she was. "It's a good
thing I like strong women," I gasped. She respond by increasing the pressure
to the point where I felt helpless. "OK, I really like this but I've got to go
to work!" Instantly she was standing a foot away from me. I forced myself up
and led her into the spare bedroom. "This will be your room, you can sleep, if
you sleep, in here. This unfolds into a bed and there are sheets in the hall
closet. I know there's a lot of junk in here, so you can move stuff around if
it'll make you more comfortable. On my way home I'll stop by a thrift store
and try to pick up some clothes more your size."

That night I returned to a house that looked spotless. Perhaps there was an
upside to this after all. I tossed the bag of clothes I had bought on a chair
and started hunting for my guest. In the kitchen I found a large pot of
something simmering over a low fire. Whatever it was smelled great. Some part
of zombie girl was a master chief. I turned to find her standing there holding
the bag of clothes. "This smells fantastic! I had no idea that the undead were
such great cooks! Why don't you see if anything fits you better than my
niece's clothes, I'm sure this can wait a few more minute."

She quickly walked away with that unearthly grace of hers, seeming to glide
across the floor where a normal child would have stomped. I had tried to find
a selection that smaller and darker than my niece's cloths at the store.
Several minutes the zombie girl returned wearing black tank top and a black
skirt. It wasn't a combination I had pictured her wearing. For some reason it
made her look a little older and taller. As she stood there I realized that
she actually was taller than the night before.

"You must have been under a lot of stress! It looks like you are relaxing a
little. That's good. I like my girls tall and strong. But I can't keep calling
you zombie girl. Do you have a name?"

She looked at me and slowly shook her head no. There was something about the
way that she stood there that felt like she was ready to jump if I said the
wrong word. This girl was strange.

"OK, I'll come up with something. If that's OK with you?" She nodded yes. The
tension seemed to increase inside of her. I thought I could see tiny ripples
of muscle. "Well, I thought about something like Zombella, but that sounded
too much like a bad comic book. How about Sharleen? I read somewhere that it
means ‘the strong one' and that matches you. You're strong in everything you
do, from cooking to physical stuff. So, can I call you Sharleen?"

Without warning Sharleen stepped towards me, picked me up by my legs, and spun
around three times. She put me down, stepped back, and did a deep bow. When
she stood up I thought a saw a faint red glow coming from her eyes, but it
quickly faded away. "Well, I sure hope that means yes! If that stuff is ready,
I'm starved!"

Over the next few days we fell into a happy routine. Sharleen's cooking
bordered on the amazing and she kept the house spotless. I wasn't quite sure
what she did when she was alone, but I could tell she was reading several
books a day. Everytime I peeked into the spare bedroom I saw a different
pattern of stuff. Did the different "spirits" take turns? Finally the weekend
arrived and I could relax. Part Two - Week One With Zombie Kid

I woke up to discover Sharleen standing near my bed. When she saw that I was
awake she pointed at the clock and tilted her head to one side. "Oh! You're
worried that I'm late for work! It's OK, this is Saturday, I don't have to go
to work. I can spend the entire day with you. I wish you could talk, it would
make things easier. Figure out what you want to do and someway to let me
know." In a flash Sharleen leaped from the floor and was on the bed next to
me. One slim arm reached out to me and pulled me close to her. I guess what
she wanted to do was cuddle. I stroked her silky black hair for a minute and
then closed my eyes. When I woke again hours later she was still there, but
her eyes were closed.

After breakfast I led my zombie girl into her room. "OK Sharleen, it looks
like you are acutely getting bigger. If it's OK with you, I'd like to make
some records so we can chart your growth. I was thinking we could do the ‘mark
on the door' thing for your height and if you don't mind I'd like to take some
pictures of you with my digital camera." With a motion that was too quick for
me to follow, Sharleen stripped down to her black-dyed underwear and stood at
attention by the doorway. I sighed and picked up the tape measure and marker.
I was certain that when I first saw her Sharleen was only four-foot tall, but
after only a week she was three inches taller. She also looked slightly older,
more like she was eleven than ten-years-old. For fun I measured her tiny
biceps and found them to be seven and a half inches.

It was almost noon before I went outside to pick up the paper. I watched a
groups of kids trundle by when I realized that they were bundled up due to the
unseasonable cold. That gave me an idea. I went back into the house and
rummaged through the hall closet. Yes, everything I wanted was there! "Hey
Sharleen," I called out, "How would you like to go for a ride?" My zombie girl
appeared, silent as always. "It's a cold day, which I don't think would bother
you because you're so tough, but the other kids your age are wearing full
kits. We put a sweater on you, some gloves, a little make-up on your face and
these big sunglasses and no one will look at you twice." I held out my new
pile of zombie accessories and she was gone before I could blink.

Five minutes later Sharleen emerged from the bathroom, transformed from a
creature of the night into a spunky pre-teen. "I was wrong, people will look
at you twice Sharleen, you look great in that outfit. That makeup job is
perfect! Are you an expert in everything?" She walked over to me, still
graceful, but she was clearly making an effort to look more like a ‘natural'
kid. I looked down at her. At very close range I could detect the makeup, but
this would be fine for what I had in mind. She reached up to take my hand, her
tiny fingured, now hidden by a fluffy pink glove, squeezed hard for a moment,
almost as if she wanted to remind me of her strength. As I gazed into her
young face I saw the slightest hint of a smile.

My idea was to drive around, find some park or something that she could walk
around in the fresh air. Sharleen seemed to enjoy the ride, turning her head
back and forth as she watched the cars and people rush by. We ended up at the
beach, which still wasn't totally deserted, but was cold enough to clear away
the normal weekend crowd. I made Sharleen take a scarf just in case the moist
air messed up her makeup. At first she seemed a little hesitant to walk near
the water, but she seemed to relax when she say she could move away from it.
After an hour of walking in the sand I was getting really tired and was
starting to look for a place to sit. Up ahead was one of those public exercise
facilities.

It looked like a miniature ‘muscle beach' but because of the weather most of
the free weights were still in storage. However, there were a couple of those
oversize barbells that tourists pose with. There were four of them, ranging
from four hundred pounds up to a thousand pounds. "Go ahead, there's no one
here. Show me just how strong a little girl you are," I said to Sharleen. She
stepped under the four-hundred pound barbell and slowly forced it up above her
head. She held it there while I took several pictures. If I posted these
everyone would assume they were photo-mods. She put down the first barbell and
went to the second. For a moment she managed to lift the six-hundred-pound bar
off of the supports, but she couldn't lift it all the way.

I walked around to her back and asked, "Could you try that one more time? I'd
like to feel your muscles." Again she tried to lift the bar, though this time
she seemed to be putting in more effort. I squeezed her arms and shoulders,
feeling the inhuman hardness of her zombie muscles under her soft pink
sweater. After a minute I thanked her and told her to stop. I didn't know if
she could hurt herself or not. After resting for a few minutes we started to
walk back to my van. "Don't worry Sharleen, you're a growing girl, I'm sure
you'll be able to lift those other barbells. I'd love to see you lift that big
one!" After a moment she did another set of cart-wheels but thankfully stopped
short of doing more of those amazing back flips.

Back at the house I printed out one of the pictures of her lifting the
four-hundred-pound barbell and stuck it next to the mark on her growth chart.
We watched movies for the rest of the day, she seemed to enjoy computer
animation. Around five Sharleen got up to make me dinner. I still didn't know
what she ate, if she ate anything at all. After about an hour she came out and
stood in front of me. I was a little startled as she started to move her mouth
as if she were trying to talk. As I watched her lips I could almost make out
the words, but she was as silent as always. "Wait a second Sharleen, if you
want to talk you make to breath. You need moving air to make the sounds." She
nodded and seemed to concentrate. For the first time since I had met her I saw
her chest move. Air sucked into her with a horrible gurgling sound as if
filling lungs that had been clogged by water. Sharleen ran into the bathroom
and I could hear gagging noises.

After a minute she returned to stand in front of me. She looked me in the eye,
and in a soft voice that was a mixture of ‘little girl' and ‘vampire', said
"DINNER IS SERVED!" The fish stew was wonderful and I'm sure the equal to any
found in a New Orleans restaurant. She was spoiling me. I would miss her, for
many reasons, after she returned home. Speaking remained a major effort for
her, and she never said more than two or three words at a time. However, with
two-way communication established our brief life together entered into a new
phase.

Sharleen looked at me, "I LIKE YOU!" I smiled, "I like you too, Sharleen. you
are an unexpected pleasure." She got up and moved towards me, "GIVE ME NAME!
SHARLEEN! I LIKE NAME!" "Well, you certainly lived up to your name today. You
were amazing!" "YOU LIKE BIG! I GET BIG! YOU LIKE STRONG! I GET STRONG!" I
reached out and squeezed her arm, "I bet you are the strongest little girl in
the world."

Part Three - Week Two With Zombie Kid

Sunday came and went, and the work week passed in the usual blur. Finally
another Saturday morning and I awoke with Sharleen snuggled next to me. After
breakfast we went to her room for another measurement session. Sharleen
stripped down to her underwear and stood by the door. She had grown another
three inches and was now four-foot-six. Her arms had increased to a full nine
inches. What was more interesting was that Sharleen clearly looked older, her
entire body shape was changing. While her skin still retained an unearthly
paleness, she was now twelve-years old.

Since the weather was warm we worked in the backyard. Since I was on a corner
lot and the house was next to my only neighbor, the backyard had only street
next to it. Because the lawn had leaped up with the last rain I began to
wrestle the power mower out of the garage. Then I had an idea. I walked into
the house to see what outfit Sharleen had picked out for herself. I had told
her that she could wear whatever she wanted to.

White tennis shoes, pink socks, cut-off bluejeans and a sleeveless pink
tee-shirt was what I discovered. To top it off she had put her long black hair
into pigtails and found a large pair of bight pink sunglasses. This outfit
showed more skin than I was used to seeing, but at least Sharleen gaining some
color and no longer looked like the freshly unburied. "How would you like to
mow the grass? I have an old push mower, but it's so stiff it would take
someone with really strong legs." Sharleen made a fist, slamming it into her
right thigh. It make a sound like a sledge hammer hitting a frozen slab of
beef, "GOT STRONG LEGS!"

In the bright sunlight Sharleen looked almost like a typical twelve-year-old.
After a minute of enjoying the show I remembered something about sunlight and
zombies. I wasn't quite sure, the details were fuzzy and I had misplaced her
instruction book. I ran into the house and returned with a bottle of sun-tan
lotion. It was left over from one of my nieces visits and was made for kids. I
was a little worried because it has expired a year ago and the lotion needed
to be shaken up first. Sharleen stopped when I waved to her and came over. I
explained what I wanted to do. As I rubbed on the lotion I noticed that her
body didn't feel as cool as it normally did. I hoped that was a good sign.

I watched her continue mowing the grass. While she showed no more muscle that
a typical girl her ‘age' I knew that those muscles contained an unearthly
strength. No normal twelve-year-old girl could have forced that half-rusted
mower to work. "Hey Sharleen, after you finish you can show me some of those
gymnastic moves you do so well!" For some reason I think this pleased her.
Forty-five minutes later she was done and the lawn mower was put away.

I sat down with a drink and watched her perform. Back flips, leaps, cart
wheels and a large number of moves I didn't recognize were done with both
perfect grace and a sense of muscular power. She started doing things that I'm
sure a normal human would not be able to. It was as if a door had been
unlocked, each movement became more wild and yet more controlled. Finally,
after ten minutes, she stopped, bowed to me and walked over to my chair. A
normal person would show some signs of effort, but Sharleen only needed to
breath when she wanted to talk. "YOU LIKE PERFORM!"

"Yes Sharleen, I really liked that! If I had made a video people would ask me
what animation software I had used. What you did was beyond human, you were
perfect! Are you sure that you're OK in the sun?"

Sharleen spun around, popped her tiny biceps a couple of times and said,
"SUNLIGHT MAKE STRONG!"

Part Four - Week Three With Zombie Girl

Another week flashed by and we came to measuring time. Sharleen was already
waiting for me by the door frame. Again she had grown another three inches and
was now four-foot-nine. Her slim biceps had increased to a full ten and a half
inches. Sharleen looked older, she now had the appearance of a thirteen- years
old girl. Her skin had gained enough color that we could risk going out in
public, though she still needed to wear her large sunglasses to hide her
unearthly eyes.

The weather was cold and there was talk of rain. It was perfect for us to
visit the beach again. Sharleen was clearly happy to be out of the house, she
practiced breathing the entire trip. "THIS MAKES ME HAPPY!," she said, her
voice still retaining some of her zombie undertones, "YOU TREAT ME GOOD!" I
was surprised to hear that she was starting to use longer sentences.

When we arrived at the beach we could see that it was as deserted as the last
time we visited. We made the long walk to the exercise building. I noted that
I wasn't quite as tired as before. Having a zombie girl around must be good
exercise. The oversize barbells were just as we left them. Sharleen walked
past the four-hundred-pound bar and settled under the six-hundred-pound one.
This time she was able to force the bar off of the support and above her head.
She put it down and went to the eight-hundred-pound bar. I could see her
straining and once again she allowed me to feel her muscles. The controlled
power I felt was amazing, Sharleen had added an inch or so of muscle to her
body.

"We'll come back in a couple of weeks, at this rate you'll conquer the big
barbell before winter is over." Sharleen smiled as I said that, "GET STRONG
YOU LIKE!" she whispered. I nodded yes.

Sharleen had a surprise for me when I came home Monday night. Her people had
sent a small package to me. In side the small box was a hand-written letter
and a small red medallion. Unfortunately the letter was written in French. I
handed the letter to Sharleen so that she could read it to me and tried to
figure out what the medallion was for. She took the letter from me and slowly
worked through it. "THEY SAY YOU GOOD!," she read, "NO ZOMBIE DO BETTER!"
Sharleen looked at me, "I ALREADY KNOW THAT!"

She turned back to the letter, "MEDALLION USED JOIN US!" She pointed at the
medallion, "I HOLD IN HAND! YOU DRIP YOUR BLOOD! MAGIC IN DISK WORK!" She read
the rest of the letter and then put it on the table. Looking at me she said,
"PLEASE DO THIS THING! MAKE ME YOUR ZOMBIE!"

I looked down at the medallion, "Does this mean you won't have to go home?
That you can stay? I tried to read more of that book. Giving you a name meant
something, didn't it? Like I was making some kind of bond. This disk, the
picture looks like flames. Blood into the flames, that's the magic that will
seal the bond, won't it? I accidentally started a voodoo ceremony when I gave
you a name, and this finishes it?" Silently, slowly, she nodded yes.

I sighed, I ought as well try to get into the mood. The hall closet had
everything I was looking for. I cleared off the kitchen table and covered it
with a red tablecloth. On top of that I put out thirteen tea-candles and lit
them. In the center of the ring of candles I placed my dad's old Kay-Bar
knife. Then I turned off all of the other lights, even the LED night lights.
With the curtains drawn tight the only light came from the candles. In the
flickering candle light I could see that Sharleen had stripped off all of her
clothing. For some reason I felt a little dizzy.

She took the medallion in her right hand and held it out. I picked up the
Kay-Bar and made a small cut on the tip of my index-finger. After putting the
knife back onto the table I held my hand above the medallion and slowly forced
a drop of blood from my finger onto the disk. For a moment time slowed down
like in a video game. I could watch the drop slowly move those last few
inches. The air was filled with chanting and I felt the heat from a great
fire. Sharleen's eyes glowed bright orange and I could see smoke rise from her
hand as if the medallion were burning her flesh. The chanting grew so loud I
could barely think.

It a moment it was over. The candles flickered, the clock on the wall
continued to tick, Sharleen's eyes no longer glowed and as she put the
medallion down on the table I could see no sign of scars. The cut on my finger
still hurt a little, but that was quickly fading. Everything was as before.
With one tiny exception. I could feel Sharleen in my mind. It was a pleasant
pressure, much like the warmth of a heater on a cold night, or the sight of a
familiar sign on a long trip home. I couldn't hear her thoughts, but I feel
her emotions. And then I learned something I didn't know was possible. Zombie
girl loved me.

The link must have been two-way because Sharleen looked up at me and smiled.
She had just learned something she didn't know before. I was in love with
zombie girl. For several minutes we just stared at each other. And then she
turned to the table and blew out the candles one by one. Even in the darkness
I could still see her smile at me.

Part Five - Week Four With Zombie Girl

Another week had passed and Sharleen had grown another three inches. She was
now an even five-foot tall. Her arms were now mildly athletic looking and had
increased to a full twelve inches. Her skin was still pale, but she now looked
human. Now that she looked fourteen I could pretend that she was another
visiting niece if I needed to. Her eyes still needed to be hidden, I guessed
that they might never change.

While the weather was again warmer, we still went to the beach. However this
time we stopped by a big- box store so that Sharleen could pick out a few
items. As we walked past the sporting goods section we spotted a young boy
showing off for his younger sister. I was just about to walk away when the
young girl walked up to a fifty-pound dumbbell, curled it three times, put it
down and stuck her tongue out her brother. He responded by making himself turn
bright red as he tried to do once what his smaller sister had easily done
three times.

I turned to Sharleen, "Did you do that?" She gently squeezed my hand and
replied, "LITTLE GIRLS LIKE BEING STRONG! SHE VERY HAPPY RIGHT NOW!"

Eventually we got to the beach. While the crowd wasn't a thick as it would
eventually become later in the season, we no longer had the beach to
ourselves. However, we were able to find a small section between hills where
we could sit away from people. After a few minutes I felt some hunger pains.
"Wait here, I'm going to grab a hot-dog from that vender back near the parking
lot." I had just paid the woman when I felt a stab of pain and fear. Something
was wrong! Sharleen was in danger! I dropped the hot-dog on the counter and
ran back to where I had left Sharleen. The woman yelled something but I had no
time to answer.

As I reached the top of the hill and ran down I could see that Sharleen was
being confronted by three tall men. They were clearly not dressed for the
beach and would have looked more at home at a vampire nightclub. The man in
the middle was holding some kind of cross was a large blue globe in the
center. He was chanting something I couldn't hear, but this was what was
causing Sharleen to feel pain. I spotted a four-foot section of pipe, the
remains of a chain-link fence from the look of it. On my way down I grabbed it
and rushed towards the man with the cross.

One of his friends stepped up and started to pull a handgun from his overcoat.
Bad move at this range. Even with my poor combat skills I was able to provide
him with a face full of pipe. After he dropped I was on top of the chanting
man. He swung the cross towards me and I felt a wash of fire and pain. I swung
my pipe blindly and was rewarded by a glass-breaking sound and screams of
pain. As my vision cleared I could see that that third man was about to put a
bullet through my head.

Sharleen was a blur as she rushed to him. He suddenly just wasn't there. I
could here the sound of bones snapping and then three large splashes as the
bodies vanished into the water. I looked down to see one of the pistols.
Falling to my knees, I managed to pick it up and hide it under my shirt. A
second later Sharleen was at my side, lifting me up and putting me on the
stone bench we had been sitting on. The entire episode had taken less than a
minute and no one on the beach had seen it.

Moments latter a woman walked by with her two kids and a small dog. Just a
normal day at the beach, nothing unusual going on here. I looked down at my
skin, expecting to see giant blisters and burns. Instead I saw no sign I had
been in deadly combat. "HUNTERS ARE NOT GOOD PEOPLE! ONLY ONE MAGIC STOP
THEM!"

"What magic is that?" I whispered, unwilling to provoke the pain, "Tell me how
we can get it?"

"TOO SOON TO GET NOW! BUT MAGIC CLOSER EVERY WEEK!"

Part Six - Week Five With Zombie Girl

Saturday could not come soon enough for me. An undercurrent of fear now filled
my like. I worried that Sharleen would be attacked again while I was away from
her. The pistol I had recovered from the beach attack was extremely illegal to
have in the state I lived in. Not only did it hold too many bullets, but this
Russian-made assassin's weapon had a built-in silencer. While I couldn't get
the sub-load ammo it normally used, the Internet said that normal 22-cal
bullets would work fine. I even found a tutorial on how to modify street-legal
ammo into something not allowed by the Geneva Convention.

As always, one of the highlights of the week was measuring Sharleen's growth.
As expected she had grown another three inches and was now five-foot-three.
Her athletic looking arms had increased to a full thirteen and a half inches.
Her body now looked as if she were fifteen, complete was very firm A-cup sized
breasts. The best news was that her skin no longer looked pale, she just had
no tan. Her large sunglasses would remain a part of her outfit for now, her
eyes were still too black to be human.

Because of the attack last weekend, we decided to stay close to home. Sharleen
started to teach me how to fight. I was always amazed by how much she knew.
But then she had both the strength and knowledge of dozens of individuals
inside of her. After an hour of working out I had to stop, "Sharleen, you're
just too hard for me to hit punching! I'm going to break my hand! Let's take a
break and run down to Uncle Bob's Sport Barn so I can buy some gloves. We can
buy you a new top or something."

"THAT SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD IDEA!" she replied, "BUT I GET TO PICK COLOR!"

An hour later, and nearly a hundred dollars poorer, we returned. Sharleen had
picked out a bright pink top which turned out to be several sizes too small.
However, she explained that she had done that on purpose because she liked the
way tight clothes felt. I refused to comment, but the top did look like it was
painted on her. Most of the money had gone towards a thick pair of gloves and
some sparring pads for her to hold. We continued to train for the rest of the
day and for most of Sunday. While it had been only two days I felt that I had
made some progress.

For the rest of the week I worked out with Sharleen for an hour or two after
work. I continued to ask her if she felt any pain when I hit her. After
several nights of this she made me grab a hammer and meet her in the backyard.
The light from the full moon made her skin look like it did when I first met
her. She had removed her top and pointed to her exposed stomach, "HIT UNTIL I
TELL YOU STOP!"

I slammed the hammer into her stomach. It bounced off with a metallic thud.
She smilled. Using both hands I started to pound as hard as I could. The shock
from the blows were starting to make my hands hurt when I felt the shaft of
the hammer split and break. Sharleen walked over to where the head of the
hammer had flown to and picked it up. When she handed it back to me I could
see that the metal had deformed. Sharleen's muscles were actually harder than
steel. She whispered to me, "MAGIC CLOSE!"

Part Seven - Week Six With Zombie Girl

Sharleen almost looked old enough for me to take out on a date without drawing
too many questions. That is if guys in their early thirties normally dated
high-school girls. She had grown another three inches and was now
five-foot-six. A few more inches and she would be as tall as me. Her arms were
already as big as mine, a full fifteen inches, but they looked more muscular.
She had gained a faint tan and her breast were now B-cup size. Sharleen could
now pass as an athletic sixteen-year-old girl. Not quite a bodybuilder, more
like a gymnast in the off-season.

We did more martial arts training over the weekend. Sharleen said that I was
starting to master the basics. Hopefully that was true. I did feel more
comfortable doing the exercises. And because she had proven to me just how
tough she was I never felt the need to hold back. I don't think anyone ever
had an instructor as good as Sharleen had become.

After dark I set up some targets in the back yard and practiced with the
assassin pistol. I was worried at first that someone would hear the gunshots,
but the silencer made the pistol sound like an air-rifle. It was no where as
quiet as in the movies, but it didn't sound like a gun. I hadn't fired a
weapon since I was in the Navy, which was nearly five years ago. Oddly enough,
Sharleen didn't know anything about firearms. For once I could teach her
something. For some reason both of us enjoyed that. However, after just an
hour of practice she developed an unhuman amount of accuracy and control. By
Sunday she could hit ten widely separated targets in under ten seconds and put
a bullseye in every one.

When I came home Thursday I found a dead man in my living room. The marks on
his body looked like the work of my zombie girl. Thankfully there was no
blood. I quickly searched the house finding no sign of Sharleen. The back door
had been forced open and there were drag marks leading to the gate in the
backyard fence. Evidently the link didn't work over the distance between my
work and home. This was something I didn't know. I searched the dead man and
found his wallet oddly empty. No credit card, no money, not even a driver's
license. However, there was a business card for something called "Madame
Obsura's Occult Bookstore And Sandwich Shop"

I couldn't call the police and report that my zombie had been kidnapped. They
were still recovering from the "Cow That Would Not Die!" No, this was a job
for someone who would be totally out of their league. And out of their mind.
So I guess I had to do it. It took me nearly twenty minutes to gather all of
the stuff I wanted to carry. This was just enough time for the rain to start.
By the time I reached the block where the store was located the rain was
coming down so hard I couldn't see more than ten feet. With all of the noise
from the rain, the splashes my boots made couldn't be heard.

In the darkness and the rain I moved unseen and unheard. There were no lights
visible from the front so I moved around to the back. This old brick building
must have had a basement because there was a boarded up window sunk below
ground level. Through the cracks I could see the flicker of green flame. The
snap of wood gave me a second advance warning. I ducked back and spun around
in time to see a tall thin man rush towards me. His long knife told me he
wasn't trying to sell me an occult book. I barely manages to move sideways as
he lunged at me, knife out like a spear. He stiffened and fell into the water.
Sharleen training had worked, and my father's Kay-Bar had seen combat again.

After making sure there were no more guards I found the back door into the
basement. At first glance it looked as if it hadn't been opened in years, but
the oil I felt on the hinges told a different story. I went back to the dead
man and searched him. This guy didn't have a wallet, but there was a small
keyring. I smiled to myself. This was starting to feel like a role-playing
game. Unfortunately, I discovered that none of the keys actually opened the
lock. I sighed as I trudged to my van and back. This was more like it! I
wedged the three-foot demolition-bar into the hasp and pulled. While the lock
has strong metal, the rain-soaked wood fell apart in soggy splinters.

As I forced to door open a pale woman leaped towards me. Her first wild swing
at me missed, but her fist ripped concrete and brick out of the door frame. I
feel on my back, the brick steps digging into my back. The ring from the
dropped demolition bar echoed through the alley. The woman step forward, bared
her fang-like teeth and hissed at me. I placed a group of three shots into the
center of her forehead. For an instant every muscle on her body doubled in
size, shredding her nightgown. Then she returned to normal and dropped to the
floor.

The basement was filled with an amazing assortment of junk. I was surprised to
notice that the pale woman was chained to the wall. Had they been using her
like a different store would have used a guard dog? I continued into the
basement and found a door that looked like it led to the room with the green
flame. Reaching into my coat pocket I brought out two plastic sandwich bags. I
removed the paper towels I had prepared from them and got ready to open the
door.

I opened the door and tossed my special "bombs" at the ceiling above the green
flame. After that I rolled to the floor and drew my pistol. The green flame
was coming from a tripod-mounted lantern. Standing next to the lantern was
another tall guy holding some a large green jewel and chanting. I spotted
Sharleen chained against the far wall, frozen by some kind of magic. Four
guards were turning towards me when my paper- towel wonders hit the ceiling.

I had learned the hard way that voodoo was real magic. Unfortunately I didn't
have any magic of my own. What I did have was a couple of magic "tricks". In
college chemistry I had played with this weird powder made from flowers which
would explode in a flash if tossed in the air by a flame. I didn't have any of
that. But what I did have was powdered coffee creamer. The massive ball of
flame did not damage, but it did startle the guy doing the chanting. I had
played Dungeons and Dragons long enough to know that you always tried to
disrupt the magic user. The three rounds to the head made sure he stayed
disrupted. As he fell he knocked over the tripod, making the green flame go
out.

Over the link I felt a surge of pure anger. I ducked behind a stack of crates
just in time to avoid being hit by flying bits of chain. What I heard next
didn't sound like combat. It sounded more like chunks of meat being fed into a
grinder. After a minute of silence I stood up. Sharleen stood motionless in
the middle of the floor. Again the link seemed closed to me. And then I
noticed that something was floating down the stairs. I started to aim my
pistol at it but found that I could not. Finally I could see that it was an
old woman with a faint green glow covering her body. She looked at the carnage
and began to point her finger at me and chant.

I could feel the power building up. There were only moments before I, and
Sharleen, would be killed by the wild old hag. I found my own anger growing.
How dare these people keep intruding into my life! I had finally found the
perfect woman. Sure she was an undead zombie spawned from the pit of hell. But
at least she wasn't a Democrat. I could barely move my hand, but I found my
target and fired. My bullet clipped the hose that was connected to a large CO2
tank, not exactly where I was aiming, but good enough. I knew enough not the
waste my shot trying to puncture the actual tank. Even at this close range a
22 would never go through that much metal. I had been aiming at a large valve,
but this was working out better.

With one end cut, the heavy hose whipped around like a spastic snake, spewing
CO2 all around the old woman. For a moment she panicked and sucked in large
amount of the invisible gas. Suddenly she stopped floating, which brought her
closer to the tank. The hose began to slap her around and she continued to
grow weaker. As the green glow faded I found I was free to move my arms. Three
more shots and she joined her comrades on the floor. Sharleen was starting to
slowly recover, the old woman must have been the most dangerous. I ran up the
stairs into the book store, ready to empty my clip into the next thing that
glowed.

The bookstore looked more dumpy that mystical. I had seen more spooky things
at a convention. For a while I wandered around, totally unimpressed. And then
I found the secret compartment that the old lady had left open. It wasn't
large, more like a desk drawer than a vault. There were several compartments,
with about half empty. My guess is that I had already seen many items that
used to be here. What remained looked more like an assortment of old jewelry
that objects of magic. There was a necklace, two rings, a large fountain pen
and a medallion. I picked up everything and dropped them in my coat pocket. It
was then that the soft beeping reached me.

I slowly turned around a saw what I had first thought was a microwave oven.
Only this had no door, wasn't plugged in, and had a red LED that showed only
sixty seconds left. I sprinted back down the stairs to Sharleen. She was still
frozen. I managed to fold her over my shoulder in a fireman's carry and
struggled out the back into the alley. I almost fell on the rain-slicked
stairs, but I stumbled up them and started to shuffle towards my van. I had
just reached the end of the alley and made it around the corner when the book
store exploded. The force of the blast tossed us out of the alley and into the
street. As we were flying I felt the link return and Sharleen twisted around
so that she ended up standing with me in her arms. Moments later we were in my
van and heading back home. I didn't know that she could drive.

Part Eight - Week Seven With Zombie Girl

After the events of last week I didn't care anymore if people asked questions.
Sharleen had changed enough that she could pass for seventeen or older if
dressed right. Not only were her muscular arms, now sixteen and a half inches,
bigger than mine, but at five-foot-nine she was now slightly taller than me.
Her breasts were no longer child-like, growing to a full C-cup size. Her skin
looked slightly tanned and even her eyes looked normal enough so that she
didn't need to hide them.

It had continued to rain for four days. Perfect weather for us to visit the
beach. Sharleen needed something to cheer her up. She had retreated into her
shell after the fight in the bookstore. I tried to interest her in the jewelry
I can found, but didn't even look at them. The link remained but nothing was
coming across. We got into my van and we headed for the beach. The parking lot
was empty. It took longer than normal to get to the exercise area. I felt a
flicker of interest as Sharleen lifted the eight-hundred-pound barbell above
her head. As I expected she was unable to lift the thousand-pound barbell.

"You're almost there Sharleen! Next time you'll do it."

"WILL THERE BE A NEXT TIME JASON? WILL NOT THE HUNTERS COME AGAIN?"

I started to answer when I heard a faint scream. Sharleen and I ran towards
the sound of a screaming woman. As we came around a hill we spotted six men
toying with a slim blonde. She was clearly about to be gang-raped and only our
strange habits had brought us to see this. I felt a glow of anger build over
the link. Sharleen was about to sprint towards the men. Not wanting to see her
kill again I asked, "Couldn't you make her strong and tough like you did that
little girl in the store?" Sharleen stopped and looked at me. Over the link I
felt a flicker of surprise and then a glow of pleasure.

"THIS IS WHY I LOVE YOU! I KNOW MANY THINGS! YOU CAN THINK OF MANY
POSSIBILITIES! YOU ADD TO ME WHAT I LACK! I AM COMPLETE BECAUSE OF YOU!"

With that she turned towards the group. I could see a faint glow inside her
eyes. The thin blonde started to struggle with her attackers. From this
distance it was hard to tell exactly what was happening. The wrestling moved
onto punching, but when the men hit the blonde she didn't seem to notice.
Eventually the blonde became so strong that when she punched the men they
stayed down. After a few minutes only the woman remained standing. The slim
blonde waved at us and entered the small cave that her attackers had been
trying to force her into.

It took Sharleen and I a couple of minutes to reach the cave. Inside the woman
waited. She was about five- foot-four with long blonde hair and large breasts.
From a distance she looked slim, but close up I could see the remains of some
kind of athletic conditioning. Perhaps she had been a cheerleader or tennis
player in high-school. She walked up to me and smiled, "That was fun! I don't
get to go all out every day! I tried to make it last, but those guys weren't
as tough as I thought they were. Look, I know were total strangers, but I'm
really horny and you're cute!"

This was strange, the woman was talking to me as if Sharleen wasn't even
there. I turned to see the glow in Sharleen's eyes and the smile on her face.
Through the link I felt a steady flow of pleasure. "THIS IS HER FANTASY! SHE
TINY WOMAN ALWAYS FEEL WEAK! WHEN SHE LEAVE NOT REMEMBER ATTACK BY MEN! WHAT
HAPPEN HERE IN CAVE WILL BE DREAM OF FANTASY!"

I turned to the woman and smiled, "You are a really strong woman! And tough
too! I saw those guys trying to beat you up, but they were like little
children compared to you." The woman flexed her arms for me to feel. They kept
expanding until they were almost as big as mine. I looked around the cave and
spotted a three-inch thick bar of metal sticking out of the wall. Sharleen
caught my cue and ripped it free. I told the woman to turn around. I said I
was going to put handcuffs on her that could hold the strongest man in the
world. The woman put her hands behind her back. Sharleen silently wrapped the
bar several times around the woman's wrists.

The woman turned around, leaned towards me and sniffed. "I like the way you
smell. Or is it the salt air that is making me hungry." She leaned back,
licked her lips, and stuck out her chest. "I hope you like your women big,
because you'll be surprised after I get pumped up!" She suddenly stepped
towards me, pushing back against the wall with the pressure from her firm
breasts. Under her skin I could feel great snakes of muscle strain and flex as
she tried to free her hands. With every passing moment she grew larger and
harder.

It took her nearly ten minutes to build up enough muscle. As the heavy bad
dropped to the ground Sharleen stepped outside. The short woman was gentile,
but she would not stop. To complete her fantasy, and to be honest some of
mine, I resisted with all my strength. The pressure from her passion must have
knocked me out, for the next thing I remember is waking up on the cold sand
with Sharleen sitting next to me. "SHE HAS RETURNED TO ALMOST NORMAL! A GIFT
OF INCREASED STRENGTH SHE HAS! THE MEN HAVE FLED INTO THE RAIN! FOR THE MOMENT
WE ARE ALONE!"

I was a little sore, but Sharleen helped me walk back to the van.

Part Nine - Week Eight With Zombie Woman

Sharleen's mood seemed to improve over this last week. It was almost as if she
was looking forward to something. She announced that this would be the last
time I would need to measure her. At first I didn't like the sound of that,
but the mix of emotions coming through the link calmed me. Another week,
another three inches. Sharleen was a now very pleasing six-foot-tall. Her
breasts had filled out to D-cup size and her muscular arms were now a full
eighteen inches. Sharleen's eyes now looked exotic instead of strange and her
skin had a smooth light tan. She no longer looked like possible jail bait and
was clearly in the eighteen- to-twenty-five age group.

Sharleen's first surprise for me was when she stripped all the way and walked
towards me. I could feel the hunger through the link. She wanted me now.
"Sharleen, I thought you told me we have to wait until the right moment. I
can't hide the fact that I think you're incredibly sexy, but I don't want to
spoil anything for you." From behind her back Sharleen presented to me a
rolled up magazine. It was my copy of STARKE MADEN, a German female
body-building monthly. I stood and stared at the magazine, feeling like a kid
who had been caught smoking pot. She dropped it at my feet and asked, "DO YOU
KNOW HOW ZOMBIE GET BIGGER? NOT BY FOOD OR EXERCISE! TO GET BIGGER MUST ADD
SPIRIT! AT FIRST I HAVE ONLY DOZEN SPIRIT! GUESS HOW MANY IN ME NOW!"

"I don't know, is it twenty-four?"

Sharleen smiled and flexed her muscles, becoming a six-foot-tall wall of
power. "THERE ARE FIFTY SPIRITS INSIDE ME NOW! FIFTY SPIRITS THAT DIED TOO
SOON! FIFTY SPIRITS THAT LOVE TO BE STRONG! FIFTY SPIRITS THAT LEARNED TO LOVE
YOU! FIFTY SPIRITS WANT SEX WITH YOU!" She stepped closer to me, I could
almost smell the passion. Through the link fifty powerful spirits screamed
their desires. Time stopped.

When I opened my eyes I discovered that I was in my bed with Sharleen at my
side. I was very tired, very sore, and very pleased. From the smile on her
face it seemed I must have made a few of those fifty spirits happy. My eye
caught a hint of motion from the doorway. It wasn't the same old lady as we
had fought in the bookstore, but it looked like she belonged to the same club.
Before I could move her eyes flashed green and Sharleen was torn from my bed
and slammed into the ceiling.

"What have you done!" screamed the old woman, "What abomination have you
created! You have dared to blend the living with the undead! This is no
zombie, this is something new, something uncontrollable! Both you and this
foul creation must be utterly destroyed!" I found my pistol and aimed it at
her. "Fool! I am protected from all weapons created by man! Your bullets will
have no effect on me! I am the Grand Magus of the Hunter Elite! There is no
one in my group stronger in the magic arts than me!" She pointed one thin
finger at me, "Time to die!"

I fired three times. The bullets streaked towards her in flashes of bright red
and gold. The surprise on her face as they penetrated her mystic shield and
passed though her brain was priceless. As she collapsed Sharleen fell to the
floor. After a moment my zombie woman sat up and asked, "HOW DID YOU DO THAT!
SHE WAS A MISTRESS OF THE DARK ARTS! YOUR BULLETS SHOULD HAVE FAILED!"

I picked up the bull's head medallion of the bedside table, "Well, you weren't
in the mood to tell me what this was so I went on the Interment. I got part of
the story from a web site in Russia and the rest from one in France. It took
one drop of blood per bullet, and I did several clips. My fingers were sore
for days, but I guess it was worth it."

Just then the door bell rang. I quickly dressed and slipped my pistol into my
pants pocket. At the door were two familiar figures. "Are you here to take her
home?" I asked. One nodded no and the other said, "WE DON'T HAVE TOO, MY
FRIEND, SHE ALREADY IS HOME. WE JUST WANTED TO THANK YOU!" As they turned and
walked away I suddenly noticed that one of the pale-skinned figures was
female. Could they be?

"Sharleen, who were they?" I asked as they drove off.

She smiled and I felt her love through the link, "MY PARENTS OF COURSE!"

Later that day we drove to the beach, and in the full view of dozens of
tourists, Sharleen pressed the thousand-pound-barbell above her head. She
looked fantastic in her skin-tight black bikini and I wasn't the only one
taking pictures of her. Suddenly I spotted a hunter about to attack Sharleen,
but before he could make his move a tall figure stepped in front of him. I
could see the blood drain from his face just before he turned and ran away.
The menion of the old-gods waved at me and walked away. Sharleen didn't need
to know right away, but we did a good thing with that blonde weeks ago. It had
amused the old-gods to see the smaller woman beating up all of those larger
men.

How did I learn this? Even the old-gods have email.