EAT SLAY LOVE

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EAT SLAY LOVE Page 14

by Jesse Petersen


  He tilted his head and smiled at me gently. “I can tell you whatever you want to hear, babe, but it would be a lie. Because that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

  Who you are is not what you do. Unless you eat brains.

  Dave and I stared at each other. I couldn’t even speak. I could hardly breathe, my mind was racing so fast with thoughts of David becoming a… what would you even call what he was describing? A zombie whisperer or something?

  And I was also haunted by even more detailed thoughts of David being torn to shreds by the zombies outside because what had happened in the pool at the camp turned out to be nothing more than a fluke.

  “How the fuck do you think you’re going to survive that, mate?” McCray snorted, breaking the silence.

  Nicole leaned back against the outside of the house and stared at us. “He did it before.”

  “What?” McCray asked.

  He blinked and took a step away from us. One precariously close to the edge of the roof.

  “Wait, are you guys just a dream? Am I awake? Is this a hallucination?” he asked in a terrified faux whisper.

  I shut my eyes hard. I wished, and not for the first time since the outbreak, that this was a dream or a hallucination… maybe brought on by eating bad cheese. But it wasn’t. This was real as real could get. You couldn’t wake up or snap out of it, no matter how hard you tried.

  “First, you’re going to fall off the roof and I’m not coming after you and saving your ass again,” Nicole snapped.

  McCray took a look behind him and then scurried forward.

  “And if you have to ask if the people you’re hanging with are real, I really think you should try detox,” Nicole continued with a shake of her head.

  “Because reality is so fucking awesome, right?” McCray snapped and his voice was surprisingly lucid.

  I expected them to start in on each other once again, but instead Nicole looked at him a long moment and then shrugged. “Well, you do have a point. Maybe start sharing whatever you’re taking instead.”

  “Will you two just shut up,” I snapped.

  Both of them looked at me and for once they had the same expression. Like they were annoyed at me for daring to interrupt their idiotfest!

  I ignored the look and turned my attention back to David. I took in a couple of deep breaths. What I needed to be was the calm voice of reason here. Hysteria wasn’t going to get my point across. Too bad that right now I just wanted to grab my husband and shake him and hold him back to prevent him from committing what amounted to suicide, but I could control that.

  Mostly.

  So instead I said, “You can’t walk through the zombies, honey.”

  He smiled at me. “Like Nicole said, I did it before.”

  I shook my head. “And you have no clue if it will work again,” I insisted as I grabbed for his hand. Like if I somehow touched him, it would snap him out of this craziness.

  It didn’t. Stupid, stubborn boy. Who I did not want to lose even if he was convinced he was the Zombie Jesus or some other nonsense.

  “I think we both know it probably will work.” He tilted his head. “As per our conversation before Nicole and McCray started across the parking lot like the Pied Pipers of Zombieville.”

  Nicole’s eyes narrowed. “You know, I’m going to figure this all out. You two speaking in idiot code isn’t going to stop me. I’m a reporter.”

  “Barely! I don’t think stalkerazzi count,” I snapped.

  She glared daggers into me that could have killed even a zombie. Luckily I was a bit more resilient.

  Dave glanced at me. “Look, if I’m going to do this walk-into-the-zombies thing, maybe we should just tell them the truth.”

  I raised my hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. First off, I still don’t agree with the walk-into-the-zombies thing. And second, as per our conversation before the Pied Piper thing, I thought we weren’t going to tell them anything!”

  Nicole was snapping her gaze back and forth between us, her lids and brow getting lower with each look. Seriously, she wasn’t even going to be able to see soon if she didn’t knock it off.

  “Guys—” she started.

  Dave lifted his hand in the universal gesture of “Shut the hell up” but his gaze never left me. “Sarah, we need all the help we can get. And like Nicole said—” He looked at her briefly. “She’s going to figure it out. Why not just skip all the sneaking around and lying and extra explaining we may have to do later?”

  “Besides,” Nicole said, folding her arms. “If you’re going to trust me to watch your ass, I need to know the truth. In fact, I’m not leaving this damn roof until I hear it. So spill.”

  McCray leaned forward. He seemed completely freaking oblivious to everything around him. I swear, he was worse than a child with ADD.

  “We are really high up, aren’t we?” he muttered, I think more to himself than to us. “Like what, ten feet?”

  I shut my eyes and counted to ten in my head, mostly so that I wouldn’t end up pushing him down into the zombies just to get him to stop irritating me.

  “Fine,” I said through clenched teeth as I lifted my hands in surrender. “It’s your ass, so it’s your call.”

  Dave reached out and briefly touched my hand before he turned to face Nicole. He drew a deep breath and was about to speak when McCray looked at us.

  “So do you two bang or what?” he slurred.

  I shook my head. “Um, we’re married.”

  He clucked his tongue. “So that’s a no?”

  Nicole spun on him. “Hey, McCray, how about we try the quiet game? I will find you some heroin if you just shut the fuck up for ten minutes and let David tell me his big secret. Deal?”

  “Shit, Nicole, don’t encourage him,” I muttered as I watched McCray’s eyes light up like someone had offered him Christmas candy or something.

  “Do you want to babysit him, then, while the grown-ups talk?” Nicole asked, hands on her hips.

  I glanced at our resident rocker. He looked so damn happy at the idea of more drugs to come and he was being very good now that the word heroin had come into play.

  “Fine.” I shrugged. “Nicole can find whatever she wants for you. You’re an adult. Sort of.”

  “Great,” Nicole sighed. “Now can we talk about David’s big confession? Let’s go, buddy. What’s the deal?”

  Dave sat down on the roof and stared out at the rolling sea of zombies that was now gathered under the house, looking up at us, brainlessly waiting to eat us. Then he looked at his scarred hand and slowly, quietly started to talk.

  He told Nicole about our time in Phoenix and how we’d met Dr. Benson, a mad scientist if there ever was one, and started catching zombies for him. I was happy when he didn’t add that I’d taken Benson’s side over his and hadn’t believed him when he warned me about the asshole.

  And then he told her how he’d gotten bitten.

  I turned my face away as he explained his feelings that day: His fear and despair as he waited for me to come back with what we hoped was a cure. His acceptance that it probably wouldn’t work and that he’d be turned into a zombie and lose everything he cared about and hoped for.

  In my head, I tried not to go back to that day, myself, but I couldn’t help it. All I could think about was the memory of running through the corridors of Benson’s underground bunker, praying I’d get back to David in time. Of nearly watching him turn into a monster I couldn’t save.

  Nicole blinked. Her eyes were wide and dilated and she looked freaked the fuck out. She had been silent through his story, but now she swallowed hard.

  “So the cure worked,” she whispered, voice cracking as she stared at Dave like he’d sprouted a second head. Or walked on water.

  He was our own miracle, come to life. Maybe he was Zombie Jesus, come to think of it.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Sarah saved me, though it was completely the last minute. I felt myself starting to change and then… I was me again.”

&nb
sp; “Whoa,” McCray muttered. To be honest, I hadn’t even thought he was paying attention, but now he stared at Dave with a healthy dose of awe. “So is that where you got that wicked cool scar?” He winked at me. “Chicks love scars. And tattoos. And guitars.”

  “I could live without it,” I whispered past a suddenly very dry throat.

  “But ever since then, things have been different,” Dave continued. “Slowly my body, my mind have changed.”

  Nicole backed up one big step and then lifted her gun level with Dave’s face. “What do you mean, changed?”

  “Hey, oh!” McCray shouted as he unexpectedly staggered between them. “No need to get all pointy with Mr. Pistol there, love.”

  Okay, so McCray was annoying as piss, but, shit, I could have hugged him at that moment. I didn’t, of course, because he probably would have humped my leg and given me God only knew what kind of communicable diseases, but I could have. His distraction gave me enough time to swing my own rifle into the ready and point it at Nicole.

  “Shoot my husband and your brains won’t be fit for the zombies,” I promised, low and serious.

  Nicole’s gaze slipped to me and I saw the fear behind even her hard eyes. The confusion. I could have felt sorry for her, were she not threatening, you know, the love of my life.

  McCray started yelling some sort of incoherent Brit speak and then Nicole started shouting, too, I think half at him and half at me. That, of course, made me join in until we all sounded like a bunch of talking heads on one of those court shows that used to be on TV. You know, the ones hosted by that annoying, screeching blonde woman. Nancy-What’s-Her-Face? I bet she made a really charming zombie.

  But the cacophony of our yelling was disrupted when David pointed his rifle toward the sky and wasted a precious piece of ammo by discharging the weapon.

  All three of us stopped talking and stared at him.

  “We can scream and yell and eventually shoot each other, but then what’s the point of everything we’ve been through?” Dave said, his voice quiet, especially in comparison to our ridiculousness up to this point. He looked at me and his pointed gaze made blush even before he continued talking.

  “Sarah, I appreciate you want to defend me, but I think Nicole would be stupid not to freak out a little when a person who admits he’s been bitten by a zombie starts talking about changing.”

  I frowned, but shit, he was right. Again. It seems like that jerk is always right and he knows it, which makes it all the more irritating. But Dave had already turned his attention elsewhere.

  “And Nicole, if you would just wait and listen to me before you threaten to shoot my face off for being a zombie, I’ll tell you that I don’t feel zombie different.”

  “What other kind of different is there?” she asked.

  “Clearly the ‘cure’ mixed with the virus in my system and it did something to me. But the something doesn’t include wanting to eat anyone’s brains. And if it did, Sarah and I have already agreed that she’d shoot me.” I couldn’t help but wince, and he must have noticed it because he added, “And if she wouldn’t, I have every confidence that you would.”

  Nicole bit her lip and then slowly lowered her pistol, so I did the same with my rifle.

  “Sorry,” she whispered after an awkward silence.

  I wasn’t sure if she was directing that to David or to me or both, but I nodded regardless. “I’m sorry, too.”

  “And McCray,” Dave finished, turning on the rocker, who was weaving in front of Nicole, “seriously, dude, how did you survive this many months if you’re this strung out?”

  McCray stared at him and then he shook his head. “Months? I thought it had only been a few days…”

  Dave covered his eyes with one hand. “Okay, well at least take a seat. You’re going to fall off the roof and, like Nicole said, we aren’t going after you if you do.”

  To my surprise, McCray did as Dave told him and sank down on his ass like he was a dog who’d been given an order by his beloved master. If his tail had wagged, it would have completed the picture.

  Seriously, I was beginning to think this “Zombie Whisperer” thing had some merit. New Dave definitely had a way about him.

  “Look, I’d love to talk about this even more with you, since I’m sure you have questions out the ass,” Dave said, turning back to Nicole, “but right now we’re on a roof, surrounded by zombies, and if we don’t haul ass, we’re going to be facing nightfall. I don’t think we want to spend a night in this house.”

  “Especially since eventually those blokes will break the glass door,” McCray muttered in one of his interesting moments of intelligence.

  All three of us stared at him for a moment, and then Nicole shook her head like she was snapping herself out of a dream. “Okay, you’re right. But just because I’m willing to table this ‘Dave is partially a zombie’ conversation—”

  “He’s not a zombie!” I interrupted as I clenched my rifle with both hands.

  She shot me a glance, almost apologetic but not quite. “—well, this ‘Dave is whatever Dave is’ conversation then! But just because I’m willing to set it aside to get our asses out of this situation doesn’t mean I’m forgetting it or that we’re done talking about him getting bitten by zombies and you guys finding a cure.”

  Dave nodded. “Understood. Now why don’t Sarah and I head over to the front side of the house and see if we can find a building that would make a good place for you guys to run to while I distract the zombies. Nicole, you stay here and fire at the zombies to keep them interested.”

  “Sounds good,” I agreed with a sigh of relief.

  Okay, crisis averted, at least for now and even though I didn’t like the Dave walks through zombies thing, we could discuss it while—

  Nicole shook her head. “No! No way!”

  Dave shut his eyes and I could see from the throbbing vein in his neck that he was swiftly nearing the edge of his patience. Even Zombie Jesus had a limit, I guess.

  “What now, Nicole,” he ground through clenched teeth. “What?”

  “There’s no way I’m letting you and wifey just take off together after you admitted the zombie thing.”

  I rolled my eyes. “What do you think we’re going to do, skip town?”

  “Maybe,” Nicole snapped.

  “Okay, then come with us,” Dave sighed.

  “And leave doofus alone?” Nicole laughed. “It’s not like he’s going to be able to keep the zombies’ attention. Unless he falls into the mosh pit they’ve got going on down there.”

  “Mosh pit?” McCray asked, looking up.

  I shut my eyes. She was right. And from the way Dave pursed his lips, he knew it, too.

  “Okay,” he said, dragging out the word as he thought of some kind of solution. “I would say you and Sarah go, but then I won’t know which building to drive the truck to.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “You and Nicole go,” I said, though I didn’t like the idea of Dave being alone with Miss Itchy Trigger Finger. “And I’ll stay here and babysit McCray and shoot the zombies the best I can. Is that agreeable, Nicole?”

  She thought about it for a minute and I could see she was actually looking for a reason to be contrary, but finally she bobbed out a nod. “Yeah, okay.”

  “Thanks, your highness,” I muttered as I put myself in position and started firing at the zombies below. I dropped a handful with the shot, but there seemed to always be more around to fill the hole.

  Dave leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. “Thanks,” he whispered.

  I lowered my gun and turned into his arms. As I hugged him, I murmured, “Be careful of Nicole. She still might shoot you.”

  “Naw,” he said with a smile as he turned to follow her into the house. “She knows if she did that, you’d blow her into tiny pieces.”

  I glowered as I refocused on the zombies below. Damn straight I’d blow her to pieces if she hurt my Dave. And then I’d feed said pieces to the zombies just for go
od measure.

  Huh, a bit bloodthirsty, I know. But you have to admit, the bitch had it coming if she screwed with my husband. There are lines, even in a zombie apocalypse, people. And Nicole was treading dangerously close to mine.

  “So your brother,” McCray said, and his voice dragged me from my murderous thoughts.

  “Who?” I asked as I stared at him.

  “The guy, the zombie guy,” McCray said as he motioned toward where Dave and Nicole had gone.

  “We’re married,” I clarified without much patience.

  Now McCray looked up at me with a twisted face of horror. “You’re married to your brother? I don’t care if there are zombies, that’s just wrong.”

  I resisted the urge to swing my rifle on McCray and put him out of his misery, and instead said, “No. I mean, David isn’t my brother. He’s my husband. And he’s not a zombie.”

  “He got bitten by a zombie and everyone bitten by a zombie gets turned into a zombie. So he’s a zombie,” McCray said with a dismissive wave of his multiringed hand.

  I took a deep breath and fought to find a new subject since this one was becoming progressively more dangerous for everyone in our group.

  “So what’s your deal?” I asked as I fired into the crowd again. “Why didn’t you just make a run for it after the outbreak? Why did you stay here? I’d think you’d want to get as far away as you could from the place where you got imprisoned in rehab.”

  McCray stared out over the zombie sea below. “Yeah, well, it was actually my idea to come here and get sober.”

  I blinked. “No fucking way.”

  He glanced up. “Yeah. We fired our manager last year, my best friend from school, because he was so doped up he couldn’t do his job. He died a few months later from an overdose and I told the mates it was time for us to clean up. So we came here. And then they all died.”

  I stared at him. There wasn’t any slurring to his voice now. There wasn’t any teasing. “Do you think that’s your fault?”

  He glanced at me and then shrugged. “Dunno. But if they didn’t get to leave, why should I?”

  I fired another time and then glanced at him. “Because you survived, McCray. So you owe it to them to get your act together and live. You’re coming with us when we go.”

 

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