by K E O'Connor
“I didn’t know Bill had a nephew.” Laura handed me my change.
“Grant,” I said. “He seems... nice.”
“How nice?” Laura raised an eyebrow. “Nice like Bill, or nice like, yummy, I want to tear your clothes off?”
“Laura! We didn’t spend much time together. I didn’t form an opinion.”
“I shall have to drop by Bill’s store to meet this new guy,” Laura said. “The way he’s making you blush suggests he’s more than just nice.”
I turned from the counter. “I can’t stop. I’ve got a busy afternoon.” I was so bad at hiding my emotions. Laura always spotted when I was interested in somebody.
I pushed thoughts of Grant out of my mind and headed to the post office.
“Hi, Drew.” I raised a hand at the stout middle-aged postal worker behind the counter as I walked through the entrance. “I need to update the information on the dance poster. We’ve sold out.”
Drew nodded as she served a customer. “Go ahead. I’ve got my ticket.”
I added the information to the poster and was about to leave when Drew gave a big sigh. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m over-worked and understaffed.” Drew licked the back of a stamp and stuck it on a letter. “I’ve been on my own all day.”
“Where’s Beatrice? I thought she helped you most days.” Beatrice Denon was a sprightly lady in her early seventies with a mass of white hair. She was tiny, less than five-foot-tall, and built like a bird, with tiny jutting bones. Beatrice was also a zombie.
“No idea,” Drew said. “She’s my best worker by far, but she’s vanished.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, a churning sensation in my stomach. “How long has she been gone?”
“She was here yesterday. She even stayed late,” Drew said. “I thought maybe she’d come in late to make up for yesterday’s overtime. She should be here by now. She’s such a reliable zombie. When she was alive, she ran this post office like a military operation. Now she’s a zombie, she’s much the same. I’d go and check on her, but I’ve not had five minutes to myself and can’t shut the post office.”
“Has she seemed well to you? There’s nothing bothering Beatrice?”
“She’s been fine.” Drew sorted through a pile of post. “Beatrice was her usual sweet, efficient self yesterday, helping customers, cleaning up, taking deliveries, sorting through the stamps. Everything was great. This morning, she hasn’t arrived. Maybe I pushed her too hard yesterday. Can you work a zombie to death?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. As long as you’re feeding them right, they just keep going until you tell them to stop.”
“I’m feeding her well,” Drew said. “Much like you, I have broth on the go in the back. Beatrice loves it. She can’t get enough of the stuff. I’m more of a vegetable soup sort of woman, but each to their own.”
“I hope she comes back soon. Don’t work too hard,” I said.
“I’ll be fine,” Drew said. “The problem is, I can’t leave her position empty for long. Beatrice had better come back soon or she’ll be out of a job.”
I said goodbye and headed out of the post office, hurrying to the Black Dog pub, swinging my arms as I marched to keep the sharp wind from chilling my bones. Another zombie not showing up when they should. This was getting serious.
I pushed open the pub door and got a waft of cider and peanuts. The pub was ancient, with low ceilings and thick wooden beams, with open fires at both ends.
“Hi, Marissa. I’ve got some updates to put on the posters,” I said to the middle-aged redhead behind the bar.
“Go ahead, sweetie,” Marissa said. “I heard it’s a sell-out again. I’m going myself this year.”
“It should be a good event.” I updated the posters on the wall and headed to the bar. Marissa heard the best gossip, all thanks to her strong cider and kind words. “Have you heard anything about zombies going missing and not turning up for work?”
Marissa paused from cleaning the bar. “It’s funny you should say that. I had The Flounder in last night. He was complaining about a zombie not showing up when he should.”
The Flounder was Derek Flander, a wiry old fisherman, who, due to his surname and constant fishy odor, got gifted an unfortunate nickname. “Did the zombie miss a shift?”
“According to The Flounder, he hasn’t been seen for days. He’s getting a replacement.”
“So, that’s another one,” I said, more to myself than Marissa.
“Another one?”
“Audrey’s missing from the diner. Chris from Bill’s store is absent. I just found out Beatrice from the post office hasn’t turned up for her shift today. The Flounder’s assistant is missing, and there’s also Phil, who turned up dead on the beach.”
“I heard about Phil,” Marissa said. “Is there any news on what happened to him?”
“Selina isn’t sure how he died. From her initial look at his body, she reckons it wasn’t an injury that killed him. She has to do tests to determine the cause of death.” I needed to catch up with Selina and find out what she’d discovered about Phil’s death. If zombies were going missing and at risk of dying, we needed to stop it and fast.
“Do you think our missing zombies are in trouble?” Marissa dropped her cloth on the counter. “Who would want to hurt our zombies?”
“I’m not sure they’re being hurt.” My gut gave a worrying lurch as I thought about where they might be. “I don’t have proof that anything bad is happening to them.”
“It’s not like our zombies to up and leave,” Marissa said. “Zee Town is the best place for them. They can’t slip out of town unnoticed, anyway. They would have to go through border patrol. Nick would receive an alert if a host of zombies started leaving.”
“Maybe our zombies are taking time off and forgetting to tell anybody about it,” I suggested.
“That sounds suspicious to me.” Marissa arched her well-groomed eyebrows.
“Yes, me too.” I hated the idea that someone was doing wrong to the Zee Town zombies. I’d always been protective of them.
“You’ll figure it out. Do you want a drink while you’re here?” Marissa asked. “I’ve got a new cider in.”
“I’ve got a lot to do today.” I could often be swayed by Marissa’s cider. It was delicious.
“If you stay, I can ask around and see if anyone knows about our missing zombies. Take a break. Have a cider.”
“I’d love to, but another time,” I said. “I’ll be back, so ask around and see if you can find out anything.”
“I will do.” Marissa shook her head. “You work too hard. You should be going to this Valentine’s dance with a gorgeous guy on your arm, not stressing over the amount of paper cups and punch you’ve ordered.”
“No paper cups! Real glasses and champagne this time around.” I grinned at her. “But you’re right. I could do with a break. Once Valentine’s Day is over, I can relax and enjoy some cider.” I headed out of the pub and along the cobbled street toward my office.
My gut clenched as watched two zombies amble by. Something was wrong. Zee Town zombies had never gone missing before.
With Phil dead and the cause of his death unknown, I was worried. Our zombies needed protecting. I had to make sure they were safe.
Chapter 5
It was early the next morning, another frosty day, when I headed to the police station.
I wasn’t Nick’s favorite person, but he needed to know about the missing zombies.
As I opened the door of the station, Nick was behind the reception desk, his head down, writing on a piece of paper.
I approached the desk. “Have you got time for a chat?”
Nick’s head shot up and he stuffed the paper under a file on the desk. Whatever he was doing, he didn’t want me to see. “No, not too busy.” His gaze went to the file before looking back at me. “What can I do for you?”
“I’ve got worrying information about some of our zombies.”
&n
bsp; His gaze tightened. “Has there been an attack?”
I repressed a sigh. “No attacks. It’s not just Audrey who’s disappeared. Chris from Bill’s store has vanished and so has Beatrice. And, according to Marissa, one of The Flounder’s deck hands has gone AWOL.”
Nick scratched his hands through his hair. “They could have gone on a zombie day out together.”
I tilted my head and frowned. “They’ve never done that before. I don’t think they’ve planned a day off together. They wouldn’t leave Zee Town, anyway. Someone would have spotted them if they’re having a jolly somewhere.”
“What do you want me to do about it?” Nick asked.
“Find our missing zombies!”
“Cassie, I’ve still got the Council on my back about this budget cut.” Nick glanced over his shoulder. “If I lose this funding, it means I lose Alex. I have to focus on that. They want a bunch of reports and a pile of statistics by the end of the week. Until I get them done, I can’t deal with anything else unless it’s a serious crime. Your wandering zombies don’t add up to a serious incident. Besides, no one has made an official report. You’re going on guesswork and rumors.”
“What about adding in Phil’s death?” I asked. “If someone killed him, maybe they’ve snatched the other zombies and are planning to harm them as well.”
“Where’s your evidence to suggest there’s some crazed zombie hunter in Zee Town?” Nick shot me a cold stare.
I glared back at him. “I didn’t say there was a zombie hunter. It’s too much of a coincidence that Phil’s dead and other zombies are missing.”
“I’ll admit, it is strange that some of our zombies aren’t turning up. Don’t forget this is new to us, having zombie employees, keeping track of them, and making sure they’re content.”
“It’s not new! Zee Town has been going for five years. We know our zombies.”
“You don’t, not really. You don’t know the full life-cycle of a placid zombie.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “No, but I could ask Selina. She’d know if this was unusual zombie behavior.”
“Don’t bother Selina,” Nick said. “She’s busy with her work. Nothing strange is going on.”
“I think there is. If you won’t look into it, put Alex onto this case. It’ll ensure he’s seen as busy by the Council.”
“Alex is busy enough,” Nick said. “I get that you’re worried, but give it more time. You’re making something out of nothing.”
Nick was speaking as if I was asking for something unreasonable. It would take him no time to do a quick search and ask a few questions. “We know our zombies well enough by now. Why suddenly change their behavior? Something has made this change occur. We need to look into that. We need to make sure they’re safe.”
Nick leaned back. “They most probably are safe.”
I tried a different line of questioning to see if I could shift Nick’s stubborn thoughts. “What about Phil? Was his death due to natural causes?”
Nick sighed. “You know I can’t discuss this case with you.”
“Why not? I’ve seen the body.”
Nick’s eyebrows shot up. “I knew you weren’t at the morgue to talk about the dance. Selina let you look at Phil’s body? I’ll have to have a word with her.”
I cringed, realizing I’d just dropped Selina in it. “I insisted on having a look. She passed me on her way to the morgue and I tagged along and made her show me Phil’s body.”
“She should know better,” Nick said. “And we both know that Selina doesn’t do anything unless she wants to. I doubt you had to do much persuading.”
I shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with being curious.”
That earned me another sigh from Nick. “All I can tell you is that I’m not pursuing it as a murder investigation. There were no serious injuries. I’m going to mark it as a Fade case, a zombie who gave up.”
“But why?” I asked. “Phil had a good life. He was new to Zee Town, but he was a good fit and had a few friends at the shelter. There was no reason for him to give up.”
Nick raised his hands. “Like I said, we’re still learning about placid zombies. Their lifecycle might end after a few years. Maybe they have a countdown of how long they’ll last until they fade. I don’t know. Phil’s death wasn’t murder. The missing zombies haven’t been killed.”
I frowned. “How can you be so sure?”
“How can you be so sure we have a zombie kidnapper in town?” Nick shot back.
I couldn’t, that was the frustrating thing. I was going on gut instinct, and my gut wasn’t happy.
The door behind reception was nudged open. A nose appeared, followed by a tan and black head as Stool hurried toward me, his tongue hanging out.
“I knew he’d be through once he heard your voice,” Nick said.
I ignored Nick and bent to scratch behind Stool’s ears, giving me a few seconds to calm down. I’d been on the verge of yelling at Nick. “Hello, beautiful boy. Are you having a lovely day?” I asked Stool.
Stool gave a groaning sound of pleasure as I scratched under his chin.
“That dog,” Nick huffed.
The main door opened. Alex strolled through with two takeout cups in his hand. So, he was busy getting drinks for his boss!
Alex smiled when he spotted me. “I’d have brought more if I knew you would be here.” He handed Nick a cup. “Would you like mine?”
“No, thanks. I can’t stop. I was trying to get updates about Phil and let Nick know that half the town zombies have gone missing.” I stared pointedly at Nick.
“You’re exaggerating,” Nick said. “It’s a few zombies. And I will look into it when I have a moment.”
“Oh! Yes, I heard about Phil.” Alex set his cup on the reception desk. “Selina reckons he was starved.”
My mouth fell open. “Somebody didn’t feed him? Phil died of hunger?” That didn’t sound like a natural death to me.
Alex nodded sagely. “Selina said he had food in his stomach, but it was the wrong kind. Zombies cannot live on sweets alone.”
“Alex,” Nick muttered. “We don’t discuss open cases with members of the public.”
“Sure. Sorry, Nick,” Alex said. He shot me an apologetic grin. “It sounds like poor old Phil died of hunger.”
“Alex, I need you in the back office where you’re unable to tell Cassie any more information about the case we’re working on,” Nick said. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, that is the definition of an open case.”
Alex grabbed his cup, gave me a friendly wave and disappeared, oblivious of the warning note in Nick’s voice.
I continued petting Stool as I processed this information. Zombies would eat anything and it didn’t do them any harm, but they had to get a certain amount of protein every day or they grew weak and died. They were like power lifters. Protein was life. It was why they loved protein rich offal so much.
To me, a vegetarian ever since the zombie uprising, it was disgusting, but zombies needed it to stay alive. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t occasionally scoff a chocolate bar or a carrot, but Alex was correct. Feed a zombie junk food all day and they perished.
“Is there anything else you want to yell at me about?” Nick asked.
I gave Stool’s head a final pat. “No, Alex was very helpful. Thank him for me.”
Nick snorted. “Maybe I should let the funding cut happen. It would be a suitable punishment because Alex can’t keep his mouth shut when he’s around you.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” I headed to the exit.
“Don’t push me, Cassie. When I get busy, I get mean.”
He didn’t need to be busy to be mean, it was his default setting. I left the station without saying goodbye, my thoughts spinning as I walked along the street.
Why would someone prevent a zombie from eating properly? Was it some bizarre torture game? An experiment on our zombies? Whatever was going on, it didn’t sit right with me.
I ne
eded to do more digging without Nick finding out.
Chapter 6
I pulled my coat around me as I headed to the harbor. It was early, so most of the fishing boats were still docked, waiting for the tide so the fishermen could get their catch of the day.
A sharp sea breeze whipped my hair into a hideous mess as I scanned the sand. I was looking for The Flounder’s boat. It was a large white and red painted trawler named Charisma. Sadly, that was something he lacked. The Flounder had been a fisherman since he was a teenager. He had more of an affinity with the fish he caught than the people in Zee Town.
I spotted his boat and hurried toward it. The Flounder was on deck, checking through some nets.
“Do you mind if I come aboard?” I called to him.
He looked over the edge of his boat, a black cap down low over his dark eyes. “If you must. Watch out for the fish guts.”
I hesitated, but then clambered over the side railing and hit the deck, landing a little too near a full bucket of fish bait and getting a fishy tang lodged in my nose. “I wanted to see how you’re getting on since you lost a deck hand.”
“You looking for a new job?” The Flounder gave a brief grunt and turned his attention to his nets.
“Not at the moment,” I said. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“You mean with my useless deck hand, Digger?”
“Digger? Is that his real name?”
“No. It was the name I gave him, so it stuck.” He glanced at me, his mouth set in a permanent frown on his long thin face. “There’s nothing to tell. Digger didn’t show up. We had to go out a zombie down. The catch was smaller than it should have been, and it was more dangerous. I blame Digger. If he shows up again, he’s not welcome here.”
“He could be sick,” I said. “Have you been to visit him?”
“No, and I don’t care if he is sick,” The Flounder said. “I need fit, able bodies on my boat. If they get weak or mess up, they’re out. Everyone who joins me on Charisma knows the deal I offer.”
“Was Digger eating strange foods when he was last on board?” I asked.
