The Space Turtle Entertaining Fiction, and turtles.

“Anything going on out there?”

It was Clara. Joseph glanced at her. She was arranging cans of food of the desk of what had to have been a company president of CEO. He looked back outside. “They are moving slow, directionless, so they haven’t seen anyone.”

“Us, most importantly.”

Joseph peered a bit longer at the lifeless streets, then flopped onto a couch that had to have been worth a few thousand bucks before the world went down the crapper, and before the left arm had been broken off of it.

He fidgeted with his dead cell phone. “I almost wish I’d see them moving faster … it’d mean there was someone else out there.”

“Not if the zombies smell them.” She sat back in the leather chair. “I hope you like green beans.”

Joseph stood up. “I’m going to scout for some more food.”

Clara sighed. “We’ll be fine for a few more days, can’t you stay here? Green beans aren’t that bad.”

Joseph stopped in the doorway. “It’s not the beans … I just … I need something to do.”

Clara scratched at the cast on her leg. “Hurry back OK?”

—

Staying near the office, Joseph poked around some cubicles he hadn’t looked in yet. It reminded him of one of the levels in Left 4 Dead. He stepped into one and felt his skin get ready to cool down a walk in freezer. There was a giant bloody green zombie head stuck on the desk of the cubical, eyes askew, brain exposed. Then he noticed it was made of ceramic. Carefully he lifted the lid and to his great satisfaction saw there were indeed still cookies in the jar. Then he got a devious idea.

—

Joseph carefully pushed the jar into the door of the office and moaned out the word “Cookies.” Clara shouted a cry of startled terror, then a plushie desk knickknack flew through the doorway and narrowly missed Joseph. Clara pouted a giant, fake pout. “There’d better actually be cookies in there, of I’m shoving you out the window.”

He picked up the plushie and then set the cookie jar on the desk. “Sure is. Have at!” She opened the jar and took a bite of a cookie. Still chewing she said “Still fresh too.” Joseph ate one and agreed. He squeezed the plushie and dropped it. “Ouch. There’s something in there.” Retrieving it, he unzipped the zipper. There was a key inside with a keychain with buttons to unlock a car. It was for a Dodge.

“No, it can’t be …”

He walked to the window and pressed the lock button. The Viper’s lights flashed. “I don’t believe it.”

He turned to Clara. “We have a ticket out, soon as your leg is better.”

She peered over the desk at him.

“I’m fine right here with this cookie jar.”

“That is a nice cookie jar …”