by K E O'Connor
“What bonuses?” I asked.
“A generous pension scheme, free health care for you and a loved one, a car, free tickets into the theme park, and we can provide on-site accommodation if you require it.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The job package was generous, but money wasn’t an issue for me. When my parents died, they’d left me enough money to buy my cottage outright and pursue a career I loved.
Laughter drifted down the phone line. “I’m sensing you may be surprised by the offer I presented you.”
“Would it be okay if I had more time to think about this?” I asked. “I appreciate you considering of me for this role. I already love what I do at the tourism office. I’m not sure I’d want to relocate to a theme park—not as my permanent home.”
“You wouldn’t have to move,” Councilman Tapping said. “I understand your desire to stay in Zee Town. If you decide to stay in your current position, we’ll still value your role in the tourism office, but we want somebody who understands the town and the asset the zombies are to us. That’s why you’re top of our list.”
“The zombies are like a large, strange, extended family for most of the residents,” I said. “It’s important the theme park respects that.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go quite that far,” Councilman Tapping said after a short pause. “The zombies are an enormous financial asset.”
I pursed my lips. I hated them being referred to as assets. “I always do right by the zombies.”
“Which makes you the perfect person for this job. No one wants to see the zombies exploited.”
“You’re so right.” That was a concern of mine. If the wrong person took the theme park job, someone who only saw the zombies as a way to make money, they’d be vulnerable.
“Think about the theme park as an asset for us all,” Councilman Tapping said. “With you at its helm getting the residents on side, and planning the future of Zee Town and an amazing theme park, you could do so much.”
I’d had this discussion with Jen and Laura. The theme park would bring in a huge amount of money. We could use it to improve infrastructure and facilities for all residents. “Let me think about it some more.”
Councilman Tapping sniffed loudly. “Very well. I’ll need a decision by the end of the month. If you don’t take the role, we’ll need to begin the recruitment process for an external candidate. That takes time.”
“I won’t keep you waiting long,” I said. “I want to make sure I’ve considered all options without the distraction of the Spring Fling and everything else clouding my judgment.” Like a rabid zombie that was about to bring Zee Town crashing down around my head, destroying everything I loved.
“Yes, naturally. I know your thoughts are occupied elsewhere,” Councilman Tapping said. “You’re such a diligent worker. But do let the Council know your decision swiftly. We hope to welcome you on board as the new park manager very soon.”
We said our goodbyes, and I placed the phone down, my gaze going to Zara. “Let’s lock up. You can drink your beef broth on the way home. It’s best you stay inside today and take a day off. I have to get to the police station before Nick comes to find me.”
Zara nodded and followed me to the front door, waiting as I locked up. Stool bumped against my leg, seeming excited, as if he knew we were about to see Nick.
I walked with Zara to the house she shared with three other zombies and their human mentor. “What would you think about a theme park coming to Zee Town?” I asked her.
“A park with rides?” Zara asked.
“That’s right,” I said. “The Council think we need a theme park to bring in more tourists.”
“We have lots already,” Zara said.
“My thoughts exactly.”
“Sounds noisy and busy,” Zara said.
“It would be. But it’ll bring more employment to town and other opportunities for the zombies to get involved in,” I said, trying to convince myself that the theme park had potential.
“Work on the rides?” Zara asked.
“Possibly. Perhaps you’d like to run the rollercoaster?”
Zara swiftly shook her head. “Too much screaming and vomiting.”
I laughed. “Yes, I’ve never been a fan of that particular ride.”
“Like it at our office,” Zara said. “Don’t want things to change.”
We stopped outside her house. “No, neither do I. If our Council is determined to go ahead with it, we might have to accept a theme park coming to Zee Town.”
“Stay at the tourism office.” Zara opened the front door and stepped inside her apartment.
“I like that idea, too. Hopefully, we can do that.” I waved goodbye to Zara and hurried to the police station with Stool, my mind awash with conflicting thoughts about the Council’s offer. It was generous. Most people would have snapped up the job. More money, more responsibility, the chance to put Zee Town on the international map. We already had visitors from all over the world, partly due to the beautiful scenery but also because of the success we’d achieved with the zombies. Our placid refuge was the most successful in the world. It was a model that had been replicated dozens of times. We were already on the map. Would having a theme park enhance that?
I shook my head as I opened the station door, trying to dislodge the thoughts and focus on what would be an exhausting day of interviews.
Julia was at the reception desk as I walked in. “Are you ready to spend a day with our lord and master?” she asked me.
I noticed the trinket I’d given Nick hanging over the reception desk. I couldn’t help but smile. “You know, I’m beginning to think his bark’s worse than his bite. He even came around to my cottage and checked on me yesterday. We’re finally getting along.”
The door behind the reception area opened. Nick poked his head around the corner, his expression stern. “Cassie, you’re late. Come with me.”
I looked at Julia and frowned. “Or maybe not.” Pushing my shoulders back, I marched after Nick.
Today was going to be a really long, stressful day.
Chapter 11
I followed Nick through to the main office. Alex and Maggie sat at two of the desks, rifling through piles of what looked like the questionnaires given out the day before.
“Hello,” I said to them.
“Hi, Cassie,” Alex said, a harassed expression on his face.
Maggie looked at me and smiled. “Are you here for the interviews?”
“It looks like it,” I said. “Have we got anybody here yet?”
Maggie opened her mouth, but Nick cut her off.
“Yes,” Nick said. “Focus on the questionnaires, Maggie.”
I shrugged an apology at her. I hadn’t meant to get her in trouble. “Who are we interviewing?”
“We have ten zombies coming into the station over the next two hours,” Nick said. “I want to interview at least twenty today and another twenty tomorrow. That will leave only a few left to interview if nothing useful has been found.”
“How many interviews in total?” I asked.
“So far, we’ve got forty zombies who can’t account for their whereabouts,” Nick said. “Alex and Maggie are going through the last of the questionnaires to make sure we haven’t any more unaccounted for. It shouldn’t be over fifty, though.”
“Fifty interviews in two days,” I said.
“I know. It’s a lot,” Nick said. “But we have to find this rogue zombie.”
I nodded. “When do we start?”
“The first interviewee is here.” Nick pointed to a door to my left. “I’ve asked Selina to sit in and monitor the behavior of each suspect to see how they react under pressure and questioning and determine any signs of rabidity.”
“And if they do?” I asked.
Nick glanced at the gun in his holster. “I’ll deal with it.”
I frowned but decided this wasn’t the time to start an argument. By the set of Nick’s shoulders and the worry line etched
between his eyebrows, he was in high stress mode.
“Let’s get started.” I moved toward the interview room.
“A few ground rules before I let you in there.” Nick grabbed the door handle, preventing me from getting inside. “I lead on the questions. If I want your input, I’ll ask for it. Don’t ask anything off the record, or anything that could lead the suspect into concealing information that will be useful to us.”
“Why would I do that? I want to find the attacker as much as you do.”
“I know you and zombies,” Nick said. “I also know that you don’t think it’s one of our zombies who killed the tourist. I lead and you follow when I ask you to. Understood?”
I was tempted to turn on my heel and leave Nick in this ridiculous mess, but I had to make sure the zombies were treated fairly. Even with Selina sitting in on the interviews, I wanted to offer reassurance and support if the zombies needed it. “Fine. You lead, I’ll follow.”
Nick nodded and opened the door to the interview room.
Selina was sitting in one corner, a laptop on a desk in front of her, and a large mug of what smelt like coffee in one hand.
She looked up as I entered and gave me a grim smile. “I thought I heard you two arguing.”
“Some things never change,” I said.
At the table sat a short, frail looking male zombie, his hands tucked into his lap and his dark hair standing up in peaks around his head as if it hadn’t been brushed.
“Mark Harris, you might already know Cassie March,” Nick said as we both sat. “She’s here as your liaison during the interview. She’ll support you if you have questions about the process and assist if you become concerned about anything. Do you understand?”
Mark nodded and looked at me. “Cassie is safe.”
“Thank you, Mark,” I said. “I’m safe around you, too. I remember you helping at one of the carnivals we had in Zee Town.”
Mark nodded. “Carnivals are fun.”
“Yes, they are,” I said. “And you’re welcome to help or drop by at the tourism office any time you need a friend or a mug of broth.”
Nick cleared his throat.
I grimaced. I must have already broken one of his rules. I sat back in my seat and looked at my feet.
“Let’s begin the interview.” Nick started a recording device and stated his name, rank, the date and time. “Can you confirm you’re Mark Harris?”
“Yes, Mark Harris,” the zombie said.
“And you’re residing at the shelter in Zee Town?” Nick asked.
“Yes, live at the shelter,” Mark said. “They do good brains.”
“And what was your age when you were turned into a zombie?” Nick asked.
“Thirty-nine,” Mark said.
“Why is that relevant?” I asked Nick.
He looked at me sternly.
“It assists me,” Selina said. “If the zombie can tell me their age, it helps to show their level of cognitive function. If there’s also a known date of being infected and turned, I can complete an accurate medical examination and ascertain levels of decline and brain rot.”
“Fair enough,” I said, not wanting to dwell on the rot issue.
“May we continue?” Nick shot me a glare.
“Yes, of course.” I looked over at Selina and raised my eyebrows.
“Can you tell me where you were on Tuesday, March seventh, between three and nine in the evening?” Nick asked Mark.
“Not too sure,” Mark said after a short pause. “Most likely at the shelter. Spend a lot of time there.”
“Were you alone the whole time?” Nick asked.
“Had some brains in the evening.” Mark looked at me. “Saw a volunteer.”
“And did you eat with anybody?” Nick asked.
“No, ate in my room.”
“Why do you like to spend so much time alone?” Nick asked. “Don’t you enjoy the company of other zombies or humans?”
“Like zombies and humans,” Mark said. “Shy.”
Nick looked at me. I took that as a sign I was allowed to speak. “It’s not so unusual. I’ve seen many zombies maintain human characteristics after they’ve turned. Some are outgoing and loud, some prefer to be on their own and are more introverted. Sometimes, a zombie finds being around too much noise and stimulation overwhelming. It’s the same with humans.”
“Cassie’s right,” Selina said. “Zombies need a steady level of stimulation to maintain their capabilities. Too much and it’s overwhelming. Too little and they shut down. It can take a while to get the balance right.”
“Fair enough,” Nick said, his focus still on Mark. “Can you tell me about any urges you have to bite humans?”
Mark gently scratched his head and looked at me. “No urges. Don’t bite living things.”
“Not even animals?” Nick asked.
“When they’re cooked,” Mark said.
“You’ve had absolutely no urge to eat anything warm-blooded, ever?” Nick asked.
Mark shook his head. “No urges.”
“What if I were to offer you my arm with a cut on it?” Nick asked.
My head snapped around to him. “You wouldn’t do that, would you?”
He shot me a sideways look. “It’s a theoretical question.”
“Would see if you needed the doctor,” Mark said. “Could be hurt.”
“If you saw fresh blood, would you want to drink it?” Nick asked.
“No, don’t eat humans,” Mark said.
“My colleague, Selina, will show you a series of pictures,” Nick said. “Tell me what you feel when you look at them.”
Selina moved to the desk and laid out half a dozen pictures of different food items a zombie would eat, ranging from brains to stark pictures of dismembered body parts.
I had to look away as my stomach churned.
Mark didn’t seem bothered, though. He happily pointed out the brains and organs he was interested in. He didn’t pay attention to the body parts, much to my relief.
Throughout the interview, Mark kept looking at me as if making sure I was still there. At one point, he even reached across the table as if to touch me, but Nick held his hand up, and Mark sat back in his seat.
I’d have been happy to hold Mark’s hand, but perhaps that stretched the boundaries of what was appropriate during a police interview.
After a few more questions, Nick wrapped up the interview. “That’s all we need from you. I’ll be in touch if I have more questions.” He stood and opened the door.
Maggie came in and escorted Mark out.
“Thank you.” Mark looked at me. “Find the bad zombie soon.”
“Thanks, Mark,” I said. “We will. Don’t worry, Zee Town is safe.”
Maggie shut the door, leaving the three of us in the room.
“He wasn’t our rabid zombie,” I said.
“He had no reactions to the questions and no interest in the pictures we showed him,” Nick said. “I should bring the real thing into the room for our next interview. Get a bucket of something warm and sticky.”
“It’s not worth it,” Selina said. “Zombies react to a food source whether it’s a picture or the real thing. We don’t want to stink out the interview room with buckets of blood and entrails.”
“No, we don’t want to do that,” I said quickly, appalled by the idea. “Who’s next?”
Nick consulted his sheet. “Lucy. She works at Marissa’s pub.”
I laughed. “It’s not her. Lucy barely says boo to a goose.”
“She doesn’t have an alibi,” Nick said. “Therefore, she gets an interview.”
I shook my head. I was right, this would be a very long day.
Five interviews later, and I was ready for a break. We had no leads, and all the zombies had exhibited zero interest in eating humans. In fact, one of them even got upset when we suggested he was interested in eating us.
Nick flipped the folder shut in front of him and stretched his arms over his head. “Ti
me for a coffee break. We’ve got five minutes until the next interviewee comes in.”
“Perfect. I’m bone dry.” Selina stood and grabbed her mug.
We followed Nick out into the office. I walked around the small space a few times, stretching my legs. I hated sitting for too long and the plastic interview chairs weren’t comfortable. I should ask for a cushion.
“You haven’t had any luck with the interviews?” Maggie asked as I passed her desk.
I stopped walking. “Not so far. None of the zombies have shown signs of wanting to attack or eat us. They’re as placid as ever.”
“We’ve got plenty more to go yet.” Nick looked at Alex. “Any more questionnaires showing suspects without alibis?”
“We’ve got another ten.” Alex passed Nick the questionnaires.
Nick gave them a cursory glance. “I’ve built enough of a flexible timeline so we can get everybody in to speak to.”
“How are you doing?” Maggie whispered to me. “Is Nick behaving himself?”
“I’ve only been told off a couple of times,” I said. “I keep asking questions when I shouldn’t. I don’t mean to, but sometimes the zombies look distressed. I want to give them something nice to think about, or something not to worry about, at least. I’ve even moved around the other side of the table so I can be closer to them. They like to know I’m near them, if that makes sense.”
“Not really,” Maggie said. “But if it works for you, and the zombies, I don’t see any harm in it.”
“Nick thinks it’s weird,” I said. “The zombies have always liked to touch me. I can’t explain it.” I ran a finger over the scar on my palm.
Maggie noticed the gesture. “How did you get that?”
I put my hand behind my back. “It was a long time ago.”
“I’ve got a big scar on my knee,” Maggie said. “I did it when I fell off my bike. It was my first time without training wheels. I zoomed downhill, didn’t turn in time, and smashed into the railing. I pitched headfirst over the handlebars, breaking my arm in three places and messing up my knee. I was on the operating table for two hours as they fixed the knee. Hence the huge scar.”
“You’ll have to show me some time,” I said, glad she hadn’t tried to yank my scar story out of me. That was something I never told.