Dead Market

by Gary Starta

  James was sure the girl Medina described was Lorelei. Her attitude, courage and beauty matched his account.

  “I would have called you sooner, but my boy was embarrassed about being knocked over by a girl. And to boot, he lost his gun to her. He thinks she operates out of your territory. So, as a courtesy, I’m going to let you take care of her and her do-gooder friend. My boy would have you believe they’re some kind of urban legend. He thinks they’re more than human. I can’t say. But I do know a bullet will put them down. So hopefully you’ll put this problem to bed. I can’t have my business affected. Times are hard enough. I’m sure you understand, Amado. Now, I hope the next urban legend I hear of is their deaths.”

  James had hung up, emoting confidence through his tone of voice. Sure, Luis. I’ve got it covered. But inside, wheels were spinning. He had no intention of killing Lorelei. Her friend would be another matter. What he was sure of was that he was going to reconnect with her. Use her as a resource and like they say in the personal advertisements: see where it leads from there.

  ***

  Burnham was right in his banal, cave man like analysis. Finch had to admit it.

  Sure. Lorelei looked absolutely scrumptious in chains. Her long-toned legs spread upon percale bed sheets. Her arms propped in a manner to best expose her midriff and breasts; her hair wild, unkempt and sexy as hell.

  So, I want her. Ha ha…not big news here… Doubt she wants me though…And whether she does or doesn’t, she probably already can sense what I’m thinking.

  Finch kept his suspicions under wraps. He had never informed Burnham about Lorelei’s intuitiveness. He believed she benefited from some ability akin to telepathy. But for some reason, maybe some lethal and dangerous reason, she wasn’t letting on. He hadn’t pressed her outright. He surmised now would not be a good time, despite her impairment. She could barely sway her arms a few inches either way – or could she?

  “Do you want me to cut you lose, love?”

  She smiled invitingly. “That would be great.”

  A shiver rattled Finch’s spine. She was playing with him, but in a love game manner or something more sinister?

  “Ah, look at you. You’re positively handsome. Did you do that for my benefit?”

  “Quit it. I’ve had my daily requirement of mockery from Burnham.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Taking a walk, I suppose. I’m not his keeper.”

  “Ah, but you’re his friend. And a close friend at that.” Her eyes perused him. “You even kind of look like Burnham - now. Is this some man love – or is this something else?” She couldn’t hold a straight face a second longer. She positively cackled, pleased by her own wit.

  “The hairstyle doesn’t concern you, love. But glad you like it…” I think.

  “Can we talk?”

  Finch grimaced in preparation to be the butt of yet another joke. Seems I’m more afraid of humor than physical violence. Doesn’t that beat all? I’m the one who’s supposed to be the comedian here…

  “I want you to tell me the truth.”

  Finch keyed one of the padlocks open.

  “Do you find Burnham to be a control freak?”

  “In a word: no. Not at all, in fact. He’s like a big brother though. Possibly his cop nature comes off a tad overbearing but he’s protective like a brother. And if he’s coming on strong Lorelei, then be grateful; it means you’re family.” “I admit you have a point. I thought he was done with me – for good – after what happened last night. But I guess I’m still around because he’s so fucking stubborn. He never gives up.”

  “He never gives up on friends.” Finch smiled, clicking another lock open.

  “I probably could have guessed your answer. You guys are close. Like brothers, even.”

  “Sure. We grew up together. Kind of feels destined. His parents came from London like mine. Only he was born and raised here. My mum didn’t bring me to the states until I was a teenager. But you’re right. We couldn’t be closer.” “Then imagine someone taking that away from you in a heartbeat.”

  “They did, love. I lost Burnham when he died…the first time.”

  “Not the same, Finch. He came right back to you. You know what I’m talking about.”

  “Yeah, your daughter, I know. It’s your choice, though. You can return to her.”

  “Not in this form I can’t. You freaking know that. Shit, I’m pissed again.”

  Lines formed on Finch’s brow. “Should I stop unchaining you?”

  “No, go ahead. I’ve got it contained.” She stewed for a long moment.

  “I’m just trying to explain myself. I want to repay Amado James in kind for what he cruelly took from me.”

  “Right, I understand now. I think last night’s prowl had little to do with skipping meds. I think you want to build an army. At least part of you does. The other part, the more rational human side, the one willing to be locked in chains, disagrees. I can see you’re divided.” Finch inched his face closer. “Don’t let friendship fool you. We can still be friends and enemies. In other words, don’t fuck with what we’re trying to do.”

  Lorelei furrowed her brows in feigned confusion. “Gee. I’m at a lost. What do you mean? You’re alluding to actually have some sort of plan?”

  “We may not have a diagrammed schematic but we damn well know we’re not planning to do. We’re not out to create Armageddon by building an army of reanimates. We’re just trying to make the best of a bad situation.”

  “What hypocrisy! You want to be us. I see the lust in your body language. You want to be me. You want to be…” She stopped and cupped her one free hand over Finch’s cheek. “I know what you want.” She drew him closer and planted a kiss on his lips. Her lips lingered on his for a moment.

  He broke the kiss and shuffled away.

  “Okay. I want it. But now isn’t the time.”

  “Why? Do you feel like you’re betraying Burnham? Don’t worry, Finch. He hasn’t made a single move on me yet.”

  Finch arched an eyebrow in shock. “I thought…”

  “You thought wrong. Now…” She pushed closer to him.

  “But Burnham seems to think you want out of this. Is he wrong? Do you have the fucking will to go on? If you do, I will stand by you. I will…”

  She backed away, waving a hand dismissively.

  “You don’t have to make a speech. We’re playing this moment by moment, remember?” She rattled a chain. “See. I might snap in an instant. Anything’s possible. I can’t plan a life with you; just like I can’t plan on being with my daughter again.”

  “I see…” Finch sat at the edge of the bed, his hands cupping his face.

  “You see what…?”

  “I see why we’re at each other’s throats every five seconds. The disease is the enemy. And you and Burnham have it. That makes the enemy part of you. For the love of God, how on Earth can we fight something that’s a part of you both?”

  “What? So now you feel we can’t possibly win?”

  “Hell. I didn’t even think about winning. It was more like overcoming.”

  A curious smile lit Lorelei’s face. To Finch, it brightened the room, railing at the midafternoon shadows daring to darken their spirits.

  “I think you’ve hit upon something, Finch. If we are the enemy – me and Burnham – there must some advantage, some knowledge in that fact. We’ve just got to persevere and find out what that is. And like you say, maybe we can’t win.

  But just maybe we can overcome.”

  He took his hand in hers, rubbing at her chafed wrists.

  “So, looks like your pep talk worked, Finch. I’ll try to hang in there.”

  “I wouldn’t call it a pep talk. In fact, don’t quote me on anything I said.” Finch massaged his scalp. “I think the damned chemicals they put on my hair must have se
eped into my brain.”

  Lorelei barked, “You’re such a man!”

  Chapter 24

  Finch spent the next 24 hours thinking long and hard about Lorelei’s show of affection. Was it affection? Or, was it indeed a show? Was she afraid of what he might say about her to Burnham? Maybe the kiss was to keep him quiet. If so, did she have some underlying ability to already know all this?

  He would not burden Burnham with theories. The reanimate had enough on his plate. The realization the pills would not last forever; the hope of obtaining the drug via Lorelei’s arch nemesis – James Amado; and the failure to find the perpetrator of this crime were prime concerns. Burnham didn’t need his whining right now. The man had so much had labeled him a brat yesterday, recalling his tantrums over his career failings. Could one even call being a comic, a career choice?

  Finch also contemplated his decision to dye his hair. Was he trying to change his disposition – or was he simply emulating Burnham? He felt Burnham was far superior to him in all respects. The man had morals, super human abilities and probably the love interest of Lorelei. He hated to admit this to himself the most. It was so petty, to harbor a grudge against his best friend for being so superior. But especially, Finch thought, for possessing an advantage: to win Lorelei’s affection from him. Despite his doubts about her and the possibility she might betray them both, he did want her. But he must walk a fine line right now. To put love interests on the backburner. To do whatever he could to aid his friend. The man was a saint compared to him, contrary to Burnham’s own belief that he had become diseased and lived as a walking, talking abomination to God. No. The man still had to have God on his side, Burnham believed. He’s a zombie for the love of God, but he’s still a better man than me.

  Finch did what he believed best to keep Burnham’s plans on track. It wasn’t much. But what he did tempered his doubts about allowing Lorelei to patrol with him again.

  “You still think patrolling with Lorelei is a smart idea, mate?” he asked Burnham. The ex-cop paid more attention to zipping up a plum-colored hoodie.

  “I need her, Finch. I shouldn’t patrol alone. It’s not a sound tactical decision. And her slip up the other day, I have to shoulder some of that blame. I am the one who insists on these patrols. I put her out there – I put her hunger – out there. And I think she did what she did because she was rationing the pills. I have to accept that reason. We have to move forward.” His eyes finally met Finch’s. “I still believe the solution to our problems is out there.”

  “Okay, mate. I’ll do my best to understand.” Burnham patted him on the shoulder.

  “Why don’t you call out of work tonight, Finch? You may think you look great” – he perused his friend’s change – “but I can see you feel like shit.”

  “You know me well,” Finch hastily added. He feared Burnham too might be able to read his mind in some way. If so, he would become privy to his traitorous thoughts. Maybe his envy of Burnham was just as harmful as Lorelei’s possibility of betrayal.

  “No. I’ve got to go in; keep moving forward like you say.” Finch felt a hand caress his back.

  He turned to see Lorelei grinning at him. Decked out in a green top and jeans she appeared ready to roll.

  “I guess I’ve been cleared for duty, Finch. See you in the morning.”

  Damn, he thought. I could die for a smile that radiant.

  Finch spent the night with his mind on overdrive once again. What if my lust for her ends up betraying us all?

  ***

  Burnham decided it best for group morale to conceal his condition. It wasn’t just Lorelei who was beginning to feel the negative symptoms of reanimation or possibly the after effect of prescription pills.

  It gave him pause to laugh, despite how he felt. The vice cop ingesting illegal pills. But he had reason to. Or did he? Could whatever drug deals he might thwart ever make up for what he had become? Or do any possible good to deter his affliction from being spread in mass fashion? Was he in effect, fooling himself? In his prior life, he realized even he had been guilty of that crime; denial. So now was this same undesirable behavior affecting him as a reborn? His religious beliefs urged him to consider his affliction as a rebirth. A positive means to affirm his faith. But who was he kidding? He had a hand in the deaths of at least three people since his change. Despite Finch’s envy, he couldn’t deceive himself into thinking his new abilities were the work of God. He could hear more acutely and jump five times higher than a normal being. But he still carried a germ, the tainted seed of humanity which sometimes gave in to wicked thoughts and temptations. He wanted flesh – badly. He couldn’t divulge this to anyone, especially Lorelei. She would be the first to point a finger. Advise him to give up his futile efforts to remain a cop. She would encourage him to exact revenge on Amado James and then implode like a ticking bomb on a suicide mission. Ultimately, to give in to his zombie urges in a final blaze of glory. It wasn’t hard to peg Lorelei. She was self-serving. Probably was that way before reanimation. So how were they better people? He wished he could convince Finch he should feel no less superior. And with sad conclusion, Burnham realized his disease might eventually negate any of the benefits it had bestowed upon him. He surmised it was all part of his condition.

  Derek Burnham felt his gifts were failing him, possibly deteriorating to the point of failure. He would not reveal this to Finch or Lorelei. It would not only end patrolling but any hope of finding an answer to their problems. Hope was the only carrot he had to follow at the moment.

  He would patrol as normal despite the on and off again sensitivity to sound. At the moment, he heard no better than an ordinary human. His ability seemed to toggle. Two days ago, he had been convinced he had lost the gift. But he awoke the next day, tuned in to several private conversations leaking from other apartments. Now it was toggled off again it seemed.

  He also felt a lag in his step. He attempted a jump when Lorelei was out of sight. He felt as if he were an elderly rabbit. He had only elevated himself a mere foot off the ground.

  Burnham had to conclude that his presence was his most valuable gift at the moment. He would use that presence to inhibit drug deals. Employ body language to elicit fear in his enemies. Maybe even resort to a growl if it would help.

  Lorelei was probably a few blocks away now. She would keep in touch with him via cell as Finch had ordered a second phone. At least he hoped she would. She might give in to her weaknesses as well. But Burnham could reason why she might falter. She was skipping doses. For that very fact, he was befuddled as to why he felt weakened. He was taking full doses. Yet he felt as if he were entering into some kind of hibernation state. And to make matters worse, he couldn’t ignore his hankering for flesh and blood. Maybe they wouldn’t have to worry about the pill supply, Burnham thought, because possibly the pills might be losing their effectiveness.

  Burnham lost in thought, nearly spooked a potential dealer.

  The man wore clothes like a mobster. A big jacket with lots of pockets to conceal drugs, possibly weapons.

  He backtracked a few steps to conceal himself behind a dumpster. He would watch and wait now. He had no weapon, only the ordinary strength of a human being. Yet he clung to the hope that his will would carry him through.

  ***

  Amado James walked the streets of Ybor City, on foot and unaccompanied He recalled his teen years. It was the last time he had done anything this foolish.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this over a girl…

  He tried to explain he was only tracking Lorelei, the woman he turned into a zombie, to strengthen his position. The patter of his zombie heart, he resolved, meant nothing in the ways of love. It had skipped this way when he had been alive and fancied a woman. But what did that matter? He wasn’t the same many anymore. Hell, for all he knew, he wasn’t really a human being anymore.

  Dropped off on the mean streets of Ybor City b
y his top earner – Jose Sanchez – James refused all consultation. All of his employees protested his decision. They said they would take care of the bitch for him. Bring her head back to him on a platter. They were too thick to realize he didn’t want to kill Lorelei. He wanted to ally himself with her. He needed her, if not for pills, but for comfort. The loneliness was claustrophobic. It pressed as if an invisible weight upon his chest each night. He just didn’t want to find Lorelei. He needed her. He didn’t become a kingpin of crime to spend his days in lonely isolation. What good were riches if you couldn’t enjoy them with someone?

  He would find Lorelei and beg her forgiveness. It had always worked before – at least on living women. After making up, he would assure he only changed her to become his companion. He too had been a victim of the change, he would explain, and he needed comfort. Lorelei would understand. She would have to understand. She was still a woman after all. And women were sympathetic.

  ***

  I could kill every living thing on this planet…

  The words rang uncontrollably and uncensored in Lorelei Lindquist’s mind.

  At the moment, she hated everything and everyone for what life had handed her, that’s if you could call what she now experienced as life.

  She thought of Finch as a distraction. He might help her avoid a few painful moments of missing her daughter now and then. But that was all.

  And as for Burnham, he was quite the opposite, a constant beeping red alert to the fact of her condition. She saw self-hatred in him. She despised herself because her transformed state separated her from her daughter. And to top it off, he was her conscience. She couldn’t just execute Amado James and commit suicide in Burnham’s universe. He wouldn’t allow such self-aggrandizing motives. In his universe, she must feel compelled to save everyone. She must let her humanity rise above her zombie state.