Zomtropolis

by A. P. Fuchs

  “I’ll beat the hell out of you if you do.”

  His face went rigid.

  “Sorry.”

  “No problem. I get it. But if she does come back, we need a plan.”

  “I think what we need to do is figure out where she’s been. She’s come back in that gown, hospital coat thing each time.” I nodded to myself. “Yeah, that’s our starting point. We’ll find out where she’s been, then take it from there.”

  “And if she turns?”

  “She’s gotten sick first every time before now. We’ll use that as our warning.”

  “Well” –Jay stood up from the table– “you can stay here if you want or go back to your place.”

  It would have been nice to have company, but I needed some time to just stew and reflect. “Thanks, but I’ll go home.” I headed to the door. “Make a big fuss if you need anything.”

  “Sure.”

  I went into the hallway and closed the door behind me. My sweetheart’s body lay by my door. Heart aching, I walked past it and into my apartment, tears in my eyes.