People filtered in and out as we waited for our name to be called. All the while, we observed. There wasn’t anything obvious about this family or their restaurant that screamed that they might be using witchcraft or curses. It was just that everything felt a little strange. I didn’t know the family or this place well, but the sense of “offness” seemed to linger in the air. As we’d learned in the past, the truth wasn’t always obvious.
“Foxx, party of three,” Maggie called, and we hurried up to the hostess stand.
We found ourselves at a table near the window, allowing us to observe both the restaurant's patrons and the harried Burns family. As we settled in our seats and perused the menu, I said to Carol, "Do you think they're under some sort of spell? They seem so... different."
I glanced around. They were in a rush, stressed, and looking tired. The whole family had the vibes of people near the end of running a marathon. And the people around us eating? They looked strangely displeased with their food. It was all such a strange vibe that I wanted to figure out what was going on, eat, and get the heck out of there.
She narrowed her eyes and watched the family scurry around. "Let's just enjoy our lunch and see what happens."
Enjoymight have been a bit of a stretch. When our food arrived, it looked like it had been thrown together with little care or attention. I poked at my salad skeptically, wondering if wiltinglettuce was a new culinary trend I hadn't heard about. When I took a bite, my taste buds confirmed what my eyes already knew, this meal was a far cry from good.
"Is it just me, or does everything taste a little off?" I asked, glancing around at my friends' equally unappetizing plates.
"Definitely not just you," Carol said, pushing her food around on her plate with a frown. "It's like something's missing."
"Or maybe something extra is in there," Beth said, her brow furrowed. "Something that shouldn't be."
"Ugh, don't say that." I groaned, queasy at the idea of what might be lurking in our meals. We all stopped eating and started pushing the food around on our plates as we continued observing the goings on.
Beth eyed her food more closely. “Whoever is cooking has all the care of a clumsy monkey. It’s like the ingredients are here, but they’re all wrong. There’s no thought put into anything, and it just tastes so blah.”
She was right. How had these people gone from having an empty restaurant with okay food, to a full restaurant with okay food, to a full restaurant with awful food? Something was amiss. I didn’t know if it was tied to Deva or not, but I was determined to find out.
"Hey, who's working in the back today?" Carol said to a server as she passed by. The server shouted a name over her shoulder as she rushed away, but none of us caught it. We exchanged puzzled glances before shrugging it off and returning to our subpar lunch.
"Anyone else feel like checking out the kitchen?" I suggested, only half-joking. My curiosity had been piqued. There was more to this place than met the eye.
"Let's do it," Carol said, surprising me with her enthusiasm. It was usually Beth who was more gung-ho.
We threw enough money to cover the food onto the table and slipped around to the back of the restaurant, tiptoeing through a narrow hallway. The smell of grease and burned food grew as we approached the kitchen. The clanging of pots and pans mixed with the chaotic chatter of the kitchen staff, creating an unsettling symphony. Deva's kitchen was always chaotic, but this was different. This was like anarchy.
"Are you sure about this?" I said to Beth and Carol, my words barely audible over the cacophony. I didn't want to get caught by the Burnses.
"Relax," Carol said with a sly grin. "We're just taking a quick look. No harm, no foul."
"Speak for yourself." There was no turning back now, so I followed my friends into the culinary chaos.
As we rounded the corner, the sight that awaited us was one that I'll never forget. Hunched over the stove, stirring a massive pot of something that smelled vaguely of onions and regret, was a creature so disgusting I had to fight not to gag. Its skin was a sickly gray, its eyes sunken and lifeless. Pieces of flesh dangled from its face, threatening to fall into the food below.
It wasn’t the only one either. All around the kitchen were more of them. One washed dishes. Another was baking desserts. It was horrifying, absolutely horrifying.
"Is that...?" I said, unable to tear my gaze away from the horrifying figures before me.
"Yep," Carol said grimly. "Zombies. In the kitchen. Cooking."
Zombies were real? I felt like every week since becoming Karma had been a lesson in supernatural creatures. Sometimes it was a good lesson. Sometimes, not so good.
This wasnota good lesson.
Beth's eyes were widened in shock, her lips forming a silent O as she took in the scene. "This is so wrong," she said, then gagged.
"Understatement of the year." A wave of nausea washed over me. The thought of eating food prepared by these creatures made my stomach lurch, and I suddenly wished I'd skipped lunch entirely.
"Come on." Carol tugged on my arm. "We need to get out of here before they notice us."
"Good idea," I said, my legs wobbling under my horror. We hurried toward the back door at the end of the hallway and burst out into the restaurant's back alley.
"Can you believe it?" I said once we were safely outside. "Zombies, in the kitchen.”
