Zombaria Attacks - Chapter 4

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmm…pectin…sugar…measuring cup…WHAT?!?”

"…No spoons? The drawer’s empty? How could…"oh *

     Judging by the current situation in the kitchen, we are sure to find Mary Mitchell hard at work preparing the latest of an award-winning series of local jams. The time of year or citruses involved mattered not – results were what she expected of herself – held to the highest of standards. She had recently returned from a successful gathering hike, upon which she encountered the most delightful assortment of herbs and wild berries. The latest conundrum with the spoons managed to resolve itself the moment she opened the front panel on her automatic dishwasher. Yes, they were all there. And the cranberry muffins were making a successful transition in her oven.
     Mary was not what anyone would think of as a “self-made heroine”, regardless of her natural strengths and warmth she radiated around her and the town – rather, she was regarded more as a “Mother Goose” figure. She was once married to the owner of the Shears Paper Mill – one of the area’s largest employers – and after his death came into a generous inheritance which enabled her to live quite comfortably on her own terms. Difficult though it was to cope with, Mary was determined to bring herself out of the sorrows by developing a keen sense of nature and the environment she lived in – a gradual, and often self-taught, education through trial and error. She became proficient at the ways of the woodlands; the native consumables and plant life, survivalist techniques, and the fine art of cooking, particularly the aforesaid jams. Her elderberry jelly, it was said, could turn the night into day by the cheerful smell alone. It was not long after honing this craft, as well as taking on ownership of the after-school education outings with the local children, that she earned her moniker “Mary Marmalade”. It was a title that she grew fond of as the years went by.
     But that was not all that Mary had grown fond of lately. A local acquaintance by the name of Kiefer had been particularly comforting to her during the long stretch of dark, lonely days that immediately followed her husband’s passing. In time, this had blossomed into a bonding that saw the two of their lives intertwine in the most unexpected fashion. It couldn’t be said that the two were opposites that attracted; they were both widowers and enjoyed the outdoors. Rather it was simply that they fell in love with each other in a way that two lonely people so craved the attention that they dearly missed. On the other hand, Mary had begun to wonder about Kiefer’s behavior when it came to his rather eclectic schedule; she knew he was very busy moving from one project to another, but their time together seemed to be particularly “rushed” lately. It was as if he was taking on a double life… or…
     “Perish the thought” she murmured quietly to herself. It wasn’t so much his prolonged absences as it was the way he was absent, though… she would notice from time to time he would get calls randomly from someone calling himself “Mr. X”, and he would suddenly make arrangements for a meeting – if in fact it was a man, or something else…
     She didn’t have time for suspicions right now – the muffins were almost at the critical stage of completion, judging by the near-cleanliness of the sewing needle she had removed from one of them. Her thoughts turned to the children she had taken under her wing, and along with their parents all the admiration she had won from her devotion to them. Providing some comfort was the supposition that Kiefer had his busy schedule, and so did she – they were rarely in sync these days in any case.


     Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω


{…scream-ing~soak-ing~swirl-ing~sift-ing~shak-ing~rak-ing~gnaw-ing~know-ing~knock-ing…}
¡ BAM BAM BAM !


     A visitor pummeled at Mary’s front door, pulling her back from the land of daydream imagination and refocusing her attention. She hadn’t yet noticed that a cold sweat had broken out on her forehead, thanks to the absorbent cotton kerchief she was wearing.
     It was Stephan.
     “Good afternoon Mary,” he began somewhat perfunctorily. “It’s good to see you this fine day.”
     “And you as well,” Mary replied. Not that she was unhappy to see him, but a sudden, unannounced appearance by Stephan may translate into another “Kiefer Vanishing”. The only thing that held her back from speaking her mind to them was her faith in them both; she felt better that Kiefer was with Stephan than with anyone else.
     “I just stopped by to let you know that Kiefer and I may be working late this evening on the committee – sorry for the short notice; these things just keep coming up…”
     “I understand dear. Word’s around that you two have gained quite a following lately. So do the rest of the aldermen have as much appreciation for what you both do?”
     “Huh, that’s the hope and the dream,” Stephan shook his head and cast up his eyes. “You know these country club types. They grew up with golden spoons in their mouths.”
     “I’m just glad to see it hasn’t affected your good sense of humor, then,” Mary said with a slightly wavering tone in her voice.
     Stephan tilted his head and glanced at the woman with a look of concern.
     “What? Kiefer? He seems alright to me…is anything the matter?”
     “It’s probably nothing dear,” she said. “It’s just…” she lowered her head somewhat, “he’s been kind of…evasive lately.”
     This wasn’t going to be easy, he thought. But she may have already figured the truth out… farfetched as that may appear. Still, how could she know about the circles…the committee…or the missions? In bygone days this could all be shrugged off as immaterial; unimportant – they had a job to do and they did it well. The upper echelons of the organization may not have regarded them as valuable… perhaps even expendable… but would Kiefer have seen anything in Mary to lead him to believe that she could…move the masses?
     “Mary, I know we’ve been at this for quite a while now. I’m sorry. If I could help you out in any way you know I will. All I can ask is that you bear with us for a little while longer…”
     “Stephan – you know, there’s been something I’ve wanted to tell you for quite a while now…”
     “Yes?”
     She raised her eyes to his. What was said between them next changed the atmosphere in the room from reality to fantasy.


     “I know about the ‘committee’. I know Kiefer is a segment of the third circle.”


     Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω


     The sky outside continued its peculiar transformation; the strange “bending and folding” impressions that had begun to manifest itself now took on a drama of its own. And yet there were no sirens, no general alarm, and no word of it on the six o’ clock news. Electronics continued to function normally, the shopping centers were still bustling with the after-work crowd, and the PTA meeting at the local elementary school was still a ‘go’.


     …It was as if the normal flow of thought in everyone’s minds had been {transformed?}
     …Distorted
     …Emptied
     …Silenced

A new {manifestation} caressed the levers of power…

…sowing a fate far worse than Death

     The rains had begun to fall in the West – they would soon drench the planet and wash it clean of its former masters.