Un2Dead (Book One of the Un2Series)
Chapter Three

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Wit punctuated each curse by slamming his hands on the steering wheel. “This evening just keeps getting better. What the hell? I just wanted a little Tex-Mex. Is that so wrong? Sure, it’s loaded with sodium. Delicious sodium. Beef. Cheese. What harm could it do? I am already dead! I’m going to get my stupid ass home and lock all the doors. To top it off, I’m still hungry!”

Wit continued ranting as he made his way home. He pulled the El Camino into the garage, gave it a quick once over with a chamois and replaced the custom-made dust cover, the “Camino Cozy” as Reese called it. Everything was back where it should be, including Wit. He entered the house and made sure that the blackout shades were in place.

The refrigerator yielded the prepackaged foil pouches of plasma that Reese had left for him. Wit insisted he was a grown man, totally capable of feeding on his own. He was happy that Reese knew better. Typically Wit would just sink his fangs into the pouch to drink but since he was experiencing a bit of dental dysfunction he needed to replace another method. After searching through several kitchen drawers, he settled on using an old twisty straw. He stabbed the side of the pouch and sucked the plasma through a couple of loop-de-loops as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

A familiar squeak followed by a flapping noise came from the laundry room. The sound of paws clicked through the hallway. Gary, a jet black German Shepherd, sauntered into the kitchen.

“Hey, Gary, is it dawn already? I need to talk to you tonight. You won’t believe what I’ve been through.”

Gary cocked his head to the side, listened intently and nodded.

“Great. You, Joey and I need to put our heads together on this one.”

Gary extended a paw only to yank it back quickly as Wit reached for it.

“Very funny. Will I ever learn?”

Gary turned and headed back into the laundry room. In a few minutes he reemerged carrying a t-shirt and sweat pants in his mouth. Moving into the den he jumped up onto the couch, dropped the clothing on the end cushion, circled once, and settled in for the day. Wit tossed the twisty straw in the sink, crumpled the empty pouch and threw it into the garbage. On his way to the bedroom he checked to see if Joey had made it home. Joey was in his room, sound asleep in front of his computer. Wit owed him a lot, more than he could ever repay.

The master bedroom was definitely decorated to suit a woman’s taste. There were throw pillows and a duvet cover and doilies. All items that Wit knew existed in the room, none of which he could point out with any certainty, except for maybe the throw pillows. Decorating was Reese’s thing and he wanted no part of it. The frilly bedroom was fine with Wit. If Reese was happy, he was happy. Besides, the room’s overwhelming essence of Reese provided Wit with a sense of comfort that he hadn’t felt all evening. He bulldozed the pile of pillows from the top of the bed and crawled across to his side. He could still smell Reese’s perfume on the linens as he settled in. He lowered the bed’s protective ultraviolet shield and thought of his vacationing wife. He lay there thinking of how truly lucky he was and how she was going to kill him when he told her of this evening’s debacle. She would help him get through this. Reese stayed with him after he had turned. She had been there from the start.