The Reanimation of Edward Schuett

by Derek J. Goodman

  Edward did his best to force it all down as though he were exactly as starved as he had claimed. The potatoes threatened to come up, but the meat worked just fine for him. The sauce, which tasted like little more than maple syrup heavily seasoned with pepper, made him think that pretty soon he might recreate his early CRS pants accidents.

  He was just finishing it up when Bert came through the door with a short but very muscular man in a duster and a cowboy hat. Edward had to look again to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, but the man was real enough. The hat looked practically new, but the duster was ripped in many places and pretty well shredded where its too-long length dragged on the floor.

  “Hello there!” the man said as he walked up to Edward’s rickety table. He had an enormous smile on his face and stuck out his hand for Edward to shake before he’d even come fully through the door. “Bert here told me your name is Edward. That correct? And he also told me you’re here from the C-R-S.” He said the three letters slowly, as though he were pronouncing them for the first time in his life.

  “Um, yes, but I wasn’t really supposed to end up here.”

  “Yes, yes, Bert told me all about that also. Tell you what, I’m going to join you and sit down. Do you mind if I sit down Edward?”

  Edward was starting to think that he did mind, that there was something not quite right about the way this guy was going on, but he didn’t think it would be a good idea to say no.

  The man took a seat. “I suppose I should tell you my name, especially since I hope we become really good friends, Edward. Name’s Billy Horton. I run security for a good chunk of Laramie.”

  Edward nodded. “I’m sorry, did you say friends?”

  “I did indeed, Edward, I did indeed. Would you like that?”

  “Um…”

  “Now, now, don’t go answering that just yet. Don’t go jumping the gun. I think I should like to talk to you a little bit first. Can we talk?”

  The problem, as Edward saw it, was not whether or not he could talk but whether or not Horton could ever stop. Edward didn’t know quite what he was going to do yet, but he did know he needed to do it quick. He highly doubted Liddie could overheat in the van, and he was pretty confident she couldn’t escape, but the idea of her out there alone was making him nervous.

  “Sure,” Edward said.

  “That’s good. Real good. I’ll cut to the chase, because we don’t like wasting time around here, you know what I mean? Bert said something about you wanting a way back to Denver. Is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what. I’ve got a truck that maybe I can give you completely free of charge and you can get right on back there right away. You like the sound of that?”

  Edward forced himself to keep his mouth from dropping open. That sounded perfect. Too perfect. “Yes, that would be so great. But…”

  “But what, Edward?”

  “It just seems to me that Laramie might be the kind of place that needs any vehicle it can get.”

  “Well, every place is like that, isn’t it? But we’ll be willing to give one up maybe, that is if you can give us something in return.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t have much. I’ve got some pay cards.”

  “We don’t want your plastic pay things, Edward. No one real uses those things. But you do have access to something we need. You see, I’m not just part of the security forces around here. I’m also a business owner. I’m a thriving business owner. Too thriving. What I sell, people buy, but I don’t have as much to sell as I used to. And that’s where you come in, my very good friend. I think I could use someone who works for a place like the C-R-S as a, why don’t we call it a business partner?”

  This wasn’t good, but Edward thought it couldn’t hurt too much to play along at the moment. He needed to get that truck, and the sooner the better.

  “I’m listening. What kind of business?”

  “I’m in the entertainment business, Edward. Did you see that place across the street when you came in?”

  “Um, yeah. Bert called it the Arena.” He’d seen it, but he hadn’t been sure what it was supposed to be. From the outside it just looked like a big round building, about two stories high and taking up a whole city block.

  “That’s what it is, all right. And in that Arena we keep people happy. They’ll pay the big bucks to go in and watch even when they don’t have the big bucks.”

  “Some kind of sports thing?” Edward asked.

  “Oh hell yeah, biggest and best sport in the world, Edward. Killing fucking zeds.”

  Edward tried not to let any of his horror show on his face. “You know, I think I’ve heard of other places that do that.”

  “But no other place is anywhere good as mine. You should see some of the setups I have. I have this giant saw I made, yes? And it spins around and around and drops down onto the zed. Great stuff, you’d think, yeah? Except the way I have it set up, it doesn’t cut all the way through the zed. It slices them all the way from groin to the base of their neck. Never touches the head, so they’re pretty much split in half but they’re still moving! It’s a classic!”

  Edward felt the Dumbass Wanderer special trying to come up again, although this time he wasn’t sure he would be able to stop it. “I’m afraid I still don’t understand. What does this have to do with me?” He half expected Billy Horton to scream that he wanted Edward to be the next attraction in his show and jump at him from across the table. Edward was suddenly painfully aware of the grainy photo that most of America had seen. His only hope was that these people didn’t even have television, or at least were too busy watching their formerly living citizens get ripped apart to bother watching the news.

  “Well, I’ll tell you something, Edward. There used to be a time when the fucking zeds were ankle deep around here. As I’m sure you saw on your long hike here, that’s not so much anymore. And if I want to continue offering fine quality entertainment, I need more zeds. And that’s something I hear maybe this C-R-S might just have.”

  “I’m not so sure they would be so easy for me to get.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll be putting your job on the line and all. I can get why you might be hesitant. But I pay top dollar. Usually I use real money, but I just know I could get some of that plastic monies you have.”

  Edward wanted to reach across the table and punch this guy in the face, but this sounded like the kind of deal he could fake easily. He just needed to play along a bit longer. “And all I would need to do is bring you…zeds? Sounds like it would definitely be worth a risk or two, if you really have the kind of money you say you do.”

  “Oh, I sure do, Edward, I sure do. I have to, in order to keep all those guys I got out there patrolling the wastelands.”

  “They…patrol?”

  “All over. As far out as I can send them. What do you say, Edward? I give you a vehicle and maybe you get me a pipeline of zeds?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Absolutely.” Anything to get that truck. Anything to get the hell out of this hellhole before it was too late.

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Edward had feared for a minute as Billy Horton gave him the keys to a rusty old Ford pickup that it would be like the van, complete with controls and features he didn’t know how to operate. But it was a good old model, probably ugly-looking under the hood from all the jury-rigged parts, but it ran and that was all that mattered. He must have been slipping. He was starting to actually like the sight of Fords.

  He gave Horton all the right assurances that he would be in contact soon and took the keys from the man, all the time trying not to act like he was in a hurry. He didn’t know how many men Horton had out there or even if they searched for their zombies anywhere near the van, but he felt now like he was running against a clock.

  He sped down the highway as fast as the truck would take him, which unfortunately wasn’t that fast anymore. He ignored the way the truck shimmied horribly with every bump and pothole in the road an
d how it felt like it might shake apart if it went anything over forty-five. After what felt like too long he saw the van in the ditch, although instead of making him sigh with relief it made him wince. The dust and dirt hadn’t done much at all to keep it from being visible from the road. If anyone else had been along here recently, they had definitely seen it.

  He pulled the truck right up next to the ditch and hopped out, leaving the engine running. The van looked exactly as he had left it, but he wasn’t reassured until he scrambled down into the ditch, opened the back door, and saw Liddie sitting there. The smell inside the van was horrible now, and not because of the pheromones. The zombie bowel issue had apparently finally hit her.

  “It’s okay, Liddie,” he said. “When you wake back up I will completely deny that this ever happened. Now come on, we need to get out of here right now.” He held his hands out for her to grab so he could help her out, but she just stared at them. Although he didn’t like doing it, he tried giving her a little nudge with the pheromones. All respect for her aside, they didn’t have time to do this the right way. They could have minutes or they could have hours before any of Horton’s men found them, but he had no way of knowing for sure and didn’t plan on risking it.

  He must have fumbled a little with his control of the pheromones, because she froze and looked around frantically. He tried again, and this time she came to him. He helped her out, taking just enough time to give her a strong, heartfelt hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “Time to get the hell out of Dodge,” Edward said, then held her hand to lead her out of the ditch. He looked up, trying to find a hand hold that she could use too with the right cajoling from him, and instead saw the barrel of a rifle pointed right at him.

  The man holding the gun stood in the back of the truck, and the shocked look on his face would have been priceless if not for the threatening way he held the weapon. “Don’t move, freak,” the man said. “Don’t you dare fucking move.”

  He kept the rifle pointed at Edward with one hand as he pulled a cell phone out of his pocket with the other. He pressed a button and held it to his ear. “Billy, your guess paid off, but you are never in a million years going to believe the sick shit I just saw…No, he’s got a zed with him, had it hidden out in some abandoned van, but you need…Yeah, I can do that. But hurry up, though. I don’t want to hang around this perverted bastard any longer than I have to.”

  He put the phone back in his pocket. “You’re going to be in some deep shit now, you twisted fuck,” he said.

  Edward stared at the guy and tried to wrap his head around the situation. It was obvious by now that the man had been in the back of the truck the whole time. Edward had been in too much of a hurry to look back there. But that didn’t make a lot of sense to him.

  “What exactly is going on here?” Edward asked. “What are you doing in the back of my truck?”

  “Not your truck, fuckstick. This is Billy Horton’s truck.”

  “Which he gave to me.”

  “Oh, wake the fuck up. He only let you have the truck because he realized there was something seriously fucking wrong with your story. I was up there in the tower with Bert when you came in. What, you think we’re all just dumb fucking hicks that can’t tell which way Denver is? You didn’t come from the south, you came in from the west.”

  Edward debated whether or not he should deny it and try to continue on with his cover story. They obviously knew he wasn’t what he said he was, but maybe he could sow enough doubt in this man’s mind that he would let his guard down. After all, he really didn’t want to be still standing here when Horton showed back up.

  “That’s because that’s where our research equipment was set up,” Edward said. “I swear to God, I wasn’t lying about any of it. I just want to get this nightmare over with and go home.”

  “Really? And what the fuck was that I saw when you let that thing out of the van, huh?”

  Edward would have cussed if he didn’t still think there might be a way to get out of this. This man had seen the kiss. Edward looked over at Liddie and tried to decide if she could still pass at all for being alive. She might, he realized, if the man didn’t get too close of a look at her. She was still fresh enough, although if the man got a real close look he might see all the telltale signs that she was a zombie. Of course, no one in their right mind would get that close to zombies. They would go in for the attack if they so much as got a glimpse of a living person.

  Which, Edward suddenly realized, was exactly what she had right now. She was looking directly up at the man in the back of the truck, yet she made no move to go after him. Either Edward was holding her back with the pheromones without even realizing it, or there was still enough of her in there to think about the situation and act accordingly. He prayed to God it was the second. Either way, that gave him an idea.

  “What the hell do you mean, ‘that thing?’“ he said. “This is Dr. Gates.”

  “Bullshit. Do you think I was born yesterday? I know a fucking zed when I see one.”

  “How the hell could she be a reanimated?” Edward asked. “If she was, she would be trying to kill both of us by now.”

  The man looked confused at that, and he lowered the rifle a little. It was still pointed at Edward, but that was a step in the right direction.

  “Yeah, I guess that’s weird,” the man said. “But just look at her. She’s not moving and she’s not talking.”

  “She’s in shock, okay?” Edward said. “The entire rest of our team was killed. She hasn’t said a thing since then.”

  The rifle lowered just a little more. That was good, but this was taking too long. If Horton was coming out here in a vehicle like this truck, he wouldn’t arrive that quickly. But if he had something better—and Edward had to assume that this truck here was the worst thing Horton had, just in case Edward really had been about to take it somewhere else—then going at a flat-out speed even over the rough road still wouldn’t take very long. For all Edward knew, Horton had already been on his way when the man called in. He had to hurry this up.

  “Why didn’t you bring her with you into Laramie?” the man asked.

  Edward decided a little bit of pretend outrage was in order. “Are you fucking deaf? I just said she was in shock. It was hard enough getting her this far. I saw this abandoned van and thought she would be safe here as I went into town.” He toned his voice down, going this time for pleading. “Please, just let us go. I’m telling you the truth. Why the hell would I lie?”

  The man hesitated a moment longer, then lowered the rifle completely. Edward found it ironic that such a question was what finally convinced him. It never occurred to the guy that a lie could be more believable than the truth.

  “Shit,” the man said. “I’m really sorry. It’s just Horton had this feeling about you, and his hunches are usually right. He thought you might be hiding something out here.” He climbed over the truck’s tailgate, leaned the rifle against the nearest tire, and bent down to offer Edward a hand up out of the ditch.

  “Apology accepted,” Edward said. He grabbed the man’s hand and yanked. The man lost his balance and tumbled into the ditch. Before he could move from his landing spot Edward kicked him square in the ribs. Whether it was because Edward lost his focus for a second or the sudden action spooked her, Liddie came out of her calm moment and went straight for the prone man on the ground.

  “Liddie, no!” Edward screamed. He used that same burst of random pheromones that had stopped the teenage zombie back at the CRS, and it was just as effective in stopping Liddie. But that didn’t feel like enough to Edward. It wasn’t enough to just confuse her. He felt like he had to appeal to that part of her he still knew was inside, to bring it closer to the surface. The man moaned on the ground, apparently not aware yet that a zombie stood right over him and wanted desperately to rip him apart. Edward pulled back slightly on his control of her, talking all the while.

  “You don’t want to do this. You have it in you to resist all those
urges. I know you can.” He didn’t want to add that he hadn’t been able to do that himself, mostly because he didn’t want to hear it. She could be the one that was different, he just knew it. “Just leave him where he is, and let’s get up to the truck. Can you do that? Can you follow me?”

  He felt her own pheromones struggling against him, trying to convince him to join her in eating this thing, this prey. In fact, the honey scent was far stronger than it should have been. After a moment Edward realized what had to be happening. There were other zombies coming this way. He could smell at least two other sources of pheromones, and they themselves had picked up the traces of meat in the air. Between Liddie and the two approaching arrivals, Edward thought maybe it wouldn’t be the best idea to try letting Liddie be herself right now. The urge from the pheromones would be too great, and as much as this man had pissed Edward off, he didn’t want Liddie to get her first taste of human flesh just yet. In fact, if he had his way she never would. When she finally came back, she would be able to do it with a clear conscience.

  That left him with a choice, though. He couldn’t take this guy with them, but did he really want to leave him here to possibly get eaten? Did he really deserve that fate? He could leave the rifle behind, far enough away that the man could reach it before the zombies got here but not before Edward and Liddie made a clean getaway. That meant, however, that the zombies would be the ones to get shot, or worse, get taken back to Horton’s hideous arena. They might not have been real people to anyone else, but they were real enough to Edward and they hadn’t asked for the fate this man would give them.

  This wasn’t a decision Edward was ready for yet. Human or zombie? Where did his loyalties really lie?

  Edward pulled Liddie up the side of the ditch, then quickly ushered her around to the passenger side of the truck. After she was in he ran back to look into the ditch. The man was just starting to get up, and Edward could now see the two zombies coming up over a hill about five hundred feet away. He grabbed the rifle, hefted it in his hands like it could tell him the right answer that way, then made his decision and threw the rifle in the back of the truck (although this time he looked to make sure there was nothing else back there other than the tarp the intruder had hid under). The guy could get away easily enough if he ran, but the zombies wouldn’t have a chance if he had the gun. It was the closest thing he could think of to a win-win.