Praise the Dead

by Gina Ranalli

  “I’m bored now,” Andrew said. He felt like a cowboy in an old time movie, the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. If he’d been a cowboy, he probably would have been playing poker and drinking shots of whiskey. He thought he should have Jude teach him how to do both those things soon.

  “What do you have in mind?” Jude asked him. “Dessert?”

  “Nah. I should go see how my minions are doing.”

  Andrew liked calling the zombies “minions.” It had a definite flair to it. Like something a king would say.

  “Now that is an excellent idea.” Jude smiled. “What do you propose we do with Sam and his lovely bride?”

  It only took Andrew a second to think about it. “They should be my minions, too.”

  “Very good choice,” Jude said. “But . . .” He trailed off, but gave that last word a bit of a lilt.

  “But what?”

  “I’m just wondering if it would be at all beneficial to keep some of the . . . minions . . . alive. At least for a time. I don’t know for sure, of course, but it might be worth it to conduct an . . . experiment, if you will.”

  Andrew frowned. “What kind of experiment.”

  “The not-killing-them kind.”

  The boy’s frown deepened. “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Of course not. I’m just wondering if people who have . . . their wits about them, let’s say . . . would be useful.”

  “I don’t see how. I can’t control them unless they’re dead.”

  Jude gave a sidelong glance at the woman standing in front of the stove. With one spidery index finger, he caressed the side of her cheek. She cried out and shrank away. “I beg to differ, Andrew.”

  Andrew remained skeptical and now was even growing tired of having the conversation. “I want to get back to my zombies. Make sure they’re growing.”

  Jude looked away from the weeping woman. “Growing?”

  “Yeah. You know, in numbers.”

  “Ah. Good point.” He returned his attention to the woman. “But it’s such a waste, just leaving her here to rot like the others. A king should always have his concubine.”

  “His what?”

  “His . . . harem.”

  “I don’t know what that is,” Andrew reluctantly admitted.

  Jude smiled again, an unnerving sight. “I have so much to teach you.”

  Aggravated and restless, Andrew pulled the automatic from his waistband and shot Sam square in the face. The back of the man’s head exploded in a grisly rainbow of colors—brown, red, gray and white—before he slumped to the floor. The woman at the stove shrieked, covering her ears. Even Jude looked shocked.

  “What did you do that for?” he asked.

  “I told you,” Andrew whined. “I’m bored. I want to go now!”

  “Okay,” Jude said, his voice even. “Okay, we can go.”

  Andrew’s face flushed. “You see what happens? Now that guy can’t be one of my minions! I blew his brains out, so he’s useless!”

  “Okay. Let’s go. We can go right now.”

  Bounding out of the chair, Andrew pointed at the woman. “Bring her. I want to see one of my minions eat her face off and then we can watch her try to walk around.” He giggled. “Won’t that be funny?”

  “Yes, indeed. That will be very, very funny.”

  For quite some time, the woman continued to scream and cry as she was dragged along, but eventually she stopped. By the time a zombie was using its teeth to tear her cheeks away, the woman was so disconnected that she barely made any sound at all. But Andrew was not robbed of his game. It wasn’t long before she was up and stumbling around, her face a mass of raw red hamburger with no features at all.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Much to Lindy’s happy surprise, the morning sun revealed a small pond by the camp and though she was exhausted, she begged Jackson to let her go for a swim.

  “Absolutely not,” he said.

  He sat in a lawn chair by the fire pit with Sebastian, both men bleary-eyed and slurring their words slightly.

  “Oh, come on. What could it hurt?” She so badly wanted to know.

  “I said no. End of discussion.”

  Lindy looked at Jado, who stood nearby, for help, but the albino only shrugged. “Maybe a walk would be better?”

  Making no attempt to hide her disgust, Lindy said, “Fine,” and strolled off beside Jado. When they were out of earshot, she said, “He’s not my dad, you know.”

  “I know.”

  They walked around the pond, slowly, the sounds of a clear forest morning all around them.

  “I wish he wouldn’t act like he is.”

  “He just wants to keep you safe, Lindy. That’s all any of us want. It’s why we’re here, after all.”

  “I don’t get it. What am I supposed to learn from these people?”

  Jado picked up a long stick and examined it. It looked exceedingly dark in her pale, pale hands. She snapped off the tip and tossed it into the pond. “Here’s the thing, Lindy. I think the things these people have to teach you are already inside you.”

  The girl rolled her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean? I thought you were gonna train me to be a ninja or something.”Jado laughed. “Not quite, but everyone here possesses qualities that will be important to you in the near future. Take Dusty, for example. She is gentle and wise and cautious. Traits you’ll need if you are to be a fair and respected leader.”

  Lindy kicked at a stone. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “A leader is only as strong as those she leads. And speaking of strength, that is something you’ll pick up from Sebastian. In a fairy tale, he would be called Sebastian the Fierce, or Sebastian the Mighty. He has the courage of a lion and that, maybe beyond anything else, is something you’ll need.”

  “You sound like a fortune cookie.” Lindy was tired. Jackson had probably been right in telling her she couldn’t go swimming. “What about Monty? What ‘trait’ does he have that I’ll need?”

  Laughing again, Jado chucked another piece of her stick into the water. “Humor, I think. He’s young, so his way isn’t completely clear to me yet. And maybe that’s it right there. Maybe he’s here to remind you to hold on to your youth because even though you’re younger than he is, in many ways you’re older and growing older by the day.” More stick went into the pond as Jado thought about her words. “And he’s playful, too, so, I don’t know. But I know this: it’ll be revealed when the time is right.”

  “Maybe he’s just here to be hot.”

  They both laughed and Jado gave her a playful nudge. “You think so?”

  “That’s what all guys should be here for.” Lindy giggled. “That and to open jars and parallel park.”

  Jado continued to laugh, but suddenly the girl grew somber.

  “That’s what my mom always says anyway.” They fell into a silence, listening to the birdsong, which, for once, didn’t torment Lindy. “Will I see my mom again, Jado?”

  Without hesitation, she replied, “I think you will, yes.”

  “But you’re not positive.”

  “No. I’m not positive.”

  Lindy abruptly felt hollow inside. And scared, too, which seemed almost absurd in the bright morning sunshine beneath a sky that was cloudless and impossibly blue. “So, you guys are my army, huh?” she said, because if she didn’t say something—anything—she thought she might begin to shake uncontrollably and maybe never stop. She would crumble to the ground and become paralyzed with fear, possibly forever.

  “We’re it for now,” Jado said. “Maybe there will be others, but even if there aren’t, I think we’ll be enough.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Well, you have strength, courage, humor and wisdom. What more could a girl ask for?”

  Finding her own stick and plucking it off the ground, Lindy began to mimic what Jado was doing, breaking pieces off and tossing them into the lake one by one. “What about you and Jackson? What
traits do you guys have that I need?”

  Jado was squinting. Lindy could tell the sun was hurting her eyes. “Guidance, I guess? Protection? Maybe that’s one you’ll have to figure out on your own, kiddo.”

  Lindy couldn’t help but notice that Jado called her ‘kiddo’, same as Jackson. And guidance and protection. Both things that a kid usually gets from their . . . . She didn’t want to finish the thought. She still felt queasy and nervous. Looking up at Jado, she said, “Let’s go back, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  They reversed direction and began walking back the way they came. The day was getting warmer, prettier, and Lindy had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to notice such things for much longer and wanted to enjoy the peace of today while she could.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “We should be moving west.”

  “What for?” Andrew asked Jude.

  “Because the one who can stop you is moving east.”

  “No one can stop me.”

  “Unfortunately, you’re wrong. The girl I told you about when we were on the roof, remember?”

  Of course Andrew remembered. He’d been trying to forget it, but to no avail.

  Jude continued. “In actuality, anyone could stop you. You’re not Superman. You’re certainly not bulletproof. If I wanted to, I could kill you anytime I want.”

  Andrew was taken aback. He stared at his companion with a mixture of rage and admiration. “I wouldn’t say that if I were you.”

  “I’m not saying I will, Andrew. Of course such a thing would never even enter my mind. I’m just saying I could. As could anyone. And then—poof. There goes the future, because what is a kingdom without a king?”

  Uncertain of how to respond, Andrew chose to say nothing. Jude was interesting to have around, but sometimes he had to wonder how necessary the albino really was. The man seemed to be growing more bold in the way he spoke to him, which he didn’t like at all. But on the other hand, what if his prophesies were right? What if there really was a girl out there somewhere, hunting for him, wanting to steal his kingdom and claim it for her own?

  There was absolutely no way he could allow that to happen. No way.

  “West, then,” he said, trying to sound casual. “There’s nothing better to do, anyway.”

  “We won’t get far,” Jude warned, “but it would still be good to meet them on their way.”

  “Them.” Andrew rolled the word around on his tongue, tasting its flavor. He decided he didn’t like the sour tang. Not at all.

  “The girl isn’t coming alone,” Jude said.

  The two of them sat in an empty pizza parlor with a huge plate-glass window that looked out at the bustling street. Neither of them had been hungry, but when the choppers had started to circle, Jude had suggested they take shelter in the nearest building as soon as possible.

  “Who else is coming?”

  “I’m guessing she’ll have a small army by the time they arrive, but for now, let’s just say they won’t be anything more than gnats in your world, Andrew,” Jude said.

  “Gnats in my world,” Andrew repeated. He liked the sound of it, as well as everything it implied. He looked at Jude. “Then why mention them?”

  Jude’s eyes were invisible behind his dark sunglasses. He pressed the palms of his paper-white hands together then brought them to his lips, as though he was praying. “There is one. I guess you would call her a ‘lieutenant.’ I would like it very much if you gave her to me to deal with.”

  Andrew was barely listening. He shrugged and said, “Okay.” Even the commotion outside couldn’t hold his interest for long. He found the news programs on television entertaining for a little while but only because he was amused that no one, not even the so-called “experts in disease” could figure out what was going on or how it was spread. People wearing Hazmat suits were not an uncommon sight anymore, nor were the military in their big trucks, showing off their big weapons.

  And now the choppers. Not just the news choppers either. Those had been around for a while, but they were gone, replaced by the military, all those soldiers trying to take down his beloved minions.

  But Andrew wasn’t about to let that happen. Oh, no. He’d been smart and squirreled them away as best he could, out of sight in parking garages and department stores, churches and schools. When everything died down a little bit, he would call them forth once more and they would travel by night, taking down anyone and anything that dared to stand against them. He couldn’t wait for that part. He was positively starving for anyone to try to stop them.

  There had been a few losses, of course. If only they were immune to shots to the head . .“Are you even listening, Andrew?”

  “What? Yes. You want a . . . uh . . . lieutenant.”

  “Not just any lieutenant, Andrew. I want my sister, delivered to me unharmed. Without a scratch on her.”

  “Yeah, okay. Whatever. I don’t care.” He began to sprinkle pepper on the table top, desperate for something—anything—to do.

  “It’s just the one thing, Andrew, and for that one tiny thing, I’ll give you everything. My life, if I have to. I just want her first.”

  “I said okay!” Andrew snapped. “You sound like a broken record. Change the tune already.”

  Jude flinched, though it was barely detectable. Anyone else watching him probably would have missed that small movement. But not Andrew. Andrew saw it. And he was very pleased.

  Trying to portray complete composure, Jude said, “As soon as those grunts move on to a different part of the city, we should get going. There’s no time to waste.”

  “Nope,” Andrew said, concentrating on the picture he painted with the spices available to him. “No time to waste.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  A mini-caravan rumbled east on I-95. The old school bus held Sebastian, Monty and Dusty, while Jado’s Jeep contained herself, Lindy and Jackson.

  “That bus sticks out like a sore thumb,” Jackson said, watching the bus in the rearview mirror.

  “Which is why it’s perfect, really,” Jado told him. “And also why Lindy is riding here, with me.”

  “I want to ride in the bus,” Lindy said from the back seat. She would never say it aloud in front of Jackson, but wherever Monty was was where she wanted to be, too.

  Ignoring her, Jackson said to Jado, “That makes no sense. You just contradicted yourself.”

  “It makes perfect sense because it’s a contradiction.”

  Jackson shook his head and rubbed the stubble on his cheek. “Some army,” he muttered. “You didn’t even teach her anything.”

  “Just being around—”

  “Yeah, yeah. ‘Just being around them is teaching her.’ I heard you the first twenty times you said it. It was a load of crap then and it’s a load of crap now. I can’t believe I ever listened to you.”

  Lindy decided to tune out their bickering and think about Monty instead. As much as she hated the idea of being a boy-crazy girly girl, he was the only thing that kept her sane these days. If she could focus on him, she didn’t miss her mom, didn’t worry about her and, most of all, she didn’t think about the nightmare she was heading into, plus the fact that all these grownups were counting on her—trusting her—to save not only them, but everyone.

  It was much easier to think about Monty, his crazy-messy hair and his dimpled, dreamy smile. She wondered if he thought she was pretty . . .

  Suddenly, Jado shushed Jackson and turned up the radio. A news announcer was talking about a recent pandemic that might or might not have anything to do with a sudden rash of disappearances back east.

  “. . .unlike anything they’ve ever seen. The CDC went on to say that it’s entirely possible the sick and dying could be in a state of delirium and wandering away from their homes in order to find a more private place to die, much in the same way animals do. But the Center is still urging the public to please do their best in keeping their ill at home, using whatever safety measures necessary.”

&nb
sp; “What is that?” Jackson asked. “A nice way of saying ‘tie them down’?”

  They listened to the rest of the broadcast in silence, dread growing in Lindy’s belly like a tumor. When it was over, Jado shut the radio off, her face pale even for an albino.

  “We’re in trouble, aren’t we?” Lindy asked after a time. “They’re spreading out.”

  Instead of reassuring her as she’d hoped they would, Jackson only stared straight ahead, grim-faced. Jado took a deep breath and said, “You’ll know what to do when the time comes, Lindy. You have to continue to believe that.”

  “Then why don’t I know now? I should know now! People are dying now!” She wanted to scream, to kick, lash out at everything and everyone. She wanted to go home and hug her mom and sleep in her own bed. She wanted this all to be nothing but a bad, bad dream.

  In the past when she had a similar outburst, Jackson had done his best to console her, but this time he was quiet, lost in his own thoughts.

  “You can’t feel defeated now, Lindy,” Jado said, watching the girl in the rearview mirror. “There will be plenty of time to have meltdowns when this is all over. But not now. We all have to be as strong as we can. Don’t forget—we’re in this together.”

  The woman’s words were of little comfort, though Lindy held them close to her heart just the same. Held them like a rosary, a talisman.