Dust Collectors

"........-Surströmming...."

It fizzled out as soon as it came, I jolted from my bored pose like a whac-a-mole.

"WHICH ONE OF YOU WAS THAT?!" In my stance I pointed a finger gun around the circle of radios in front of me, scrolling between them trying to identify which it was.

".....Surrr....Surströmming.." A different voice from the last, the previous being distinctly Scottish. I couldn't identify the accent of the new speaker, but managed to identify the direction of which radio the transmission was coming from.

(Surströmming? What's surströmming? Why are the zombies saying that? It has to be some sort of code...)

There was a rhythmic knock at the hatch

"you may come in."

Aunty Laila's face peered through.

"Mornin' sweety." I sighed, not too keen to associate with anything unrelated to my study for the time being. "Good morning Aunty Laila." Can't she see I'm preoccupied?

"God that's loud- Are you the culprit behind Thea's eyebags?"

I rolled my eyes.

"She slept tremendously, I don't appreciate your accusations."

"Did... Bailey did you sleep at all?" She peered down the hatch to raise an eyebrow at me

"I don't have time to sleep, I'm a very important lady."

"Right, well can you turn that racket down and come for breakfast? Your mum's made waffles"

I groaned.

"Oooh nooo they're gonna go cold sooooon~"

Pancakes, waffles, anything like that was quite the rarity under this roof... If I were to turn down such a luxurious breakfast I would look ungrateful, and I did not wish for my family to believe that I was quite so spoiled. But my research... If I left these radios for even a second... What if they pick up something big? I need to be around to document it, I can't leave them be. Would my family let me bring them up? No, Thea and Aunty Laila clearly don't appreciate my efforts, I doubt Mum and Dad would either.

What to do...

"Aunty Laila, I have a very important mission for you."

"Ma'am yes ma'am!" She hit a proud salute.

"I need you to put, at minimum, enough waffle mixture for two waffles into a jar. I need you to refrigerate said waffle mix. Now, I know what you're thinking, 'Bailey, you imbecile, this mission is very much not of the upmost importance, I have better, non-childish things to do' and that is because you are not on my level, I am smarter than you, much so, I am beyond your understanding, but what you do today could change history." I snorted a wad of snot up my nose, "so please, just for this moment, put aside our differences. Put that waffle mix in the refrigerator for the sake of humanity."

"Kay"

and then she left.

The bag was heavy, heavier than I expected nine radios to be.

(Should I start working out? If I get jacked then maybe I won't have to sneak out to leave the base anymore, they'll all just be like 'woah Bailey, you're so extraordinarily jacked, you can do anything you want' and then life will be perfect and splenderful.)

"Rehh..."

I cupped my hands around my mouth to project my voice to her. "Honey, I'm nearly home!"

"Bleehhh" She always knew just what to say...

Skittle, my wonderful zombie wife... Technically a zombie. I've identified her class to be that of a withered, so she's more of a zombie-variant-wife... Zombie rolls off the tongue better than withered does.

I dropped the bag to the floor and choked on the dust that doing so had scattered into the air.

"Blehhh..." She slowly wobbled to greet me.

"Apologies that I haven't visited much lately honey, I've been having quite the trouble with work."

She grabbed my arm gently with her small hands and chewed on my wrist, "mphhmm murrr angangang." 

(It's her love language, she must be happy to see me.)

When we first met she agreed to let me cut off her fingertips and pull out all her teeth, she knew it was the only way our love could bloom safely. I remember it like it was yesterday, she begged me to do it whilst on her knees, clawing at my leg, reaching toward me 'oh Bailey it isn't safe! Our love is not to be oh you must!' So I shrugged and cut off all her fingers.

"My life has been difficult." I set up all the radios on the desk.

I have two bases, my home and my secret hideout. My home is called Hideout199 (that is what my parents and Aunty Laila named it) and my secret base is Headquarters017; 017 being a shortened version 2017, my birth year.

The only people who know of Headquarters017 are Felix, my beloved companion and research assistant, and Skittle, my beloved wife (who my parents do not approve of).

"Today I had to make a sacrifice, Skittles... It wasn't easy."

"Reh."

"But of course, you wouldn't understand, all you eat is brains."

"Reh."

I turned my head away from the cutie patootie nibbling on my arm. "The radios are part of my project, they aren't housewarming gifts dear."

"Angangang..."

Sitting on the dusty floor and leaning against the crusted fence, she slumped to the ground and continued chewing me. "I don't understand adults Skittle, they're always telling me to 'stay away from the undead' and to 'stop leaving the house alone' but then Mum tells me about this lifechanging radio out in the rubble? Obviously I am going to investigate that with my life, what would she expect?"

"Angangangang..."

"I'm aware, however now that I'm actually invested in this case all everyone ever does is attempt to keep me from it."

She sucked on the skin of my forearm, "at least you listen." "Bleh." "I've been sleeping just fine... Don't say things like that, you're starting to sound like Dad."

I rattled my head, "-I almost forgot! Skittle, I had a major breakthrough this morning!" (Surströmming... Am I saying that right?) "Darling-babycakes-cute-stuff do you know what surströmming means? I heard voices on the radio saying this peculiar word and I simply must find out what it is." "Eh." "Sorry, I know you don't like getting caught up in my work, but if I find this zombic translating radio then we can have actual intellectual conversation... And I can finally hear that sweet, angelic voice of yours."

She blushed, I believe. I don't know, all her skin is dead.

"Felix? No, I'm not sure where he is. I have not seen him in quite some time."

I browsed through the radios, still static.

"Hey sweetums which of this radios do you think is the paranormal object?" I stuck my finger out to my collection of potential suspects

"Hmp" but she was too preoccupied with my ankles.

"You should clean once and a while."

"Hm?" He turned to Jack's direction.

"I said you should clean the base once and a while, it's collecting dust."

He swivelled around and held the top of hos chair's backrest in his palms, "it'll just get dirty again, no point."

"But it smells... Awful, it smells like surströmming."

"What's surströmming?"

"It's pretty much just fermented fish, it's a Swedish dish."

"Does it taste good?"

"Oh absolutely, but it doesn't smell great."