Kiss of Life

by Daniel Waters

  "Not...true. Worst...already ... in past."

  "No." Wish could feel mittens as they hold cheeks. Wish could feel smell her breath as she looks into eyes. Cinnamon. Phoebe liked cinnamon gum. Can only imagine. "The worst would be that I lost you, really lost you, without having given us a chance."

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  Kiss, light. Close eyes and alive again, Phoebe alive in my arms and hold her and kiss back and breathe her and don't let her go.

  Open eyes, still dead.

  "Okay?" Light snow starts to fall, tiny flakes settle in fur lining. Nod.

  "O ... kay."

  Pats hand, gets cell phone from deep pocket. "I better call Margi. I don't want her to have to drive us when this starts to stick. Good thing we all live so close."

  "Good ...thing."

  "I hope this lets up by tomorrow, otherwise Margi's parents won't let her drive to the train station." Brushes hair back. Pretty. Listens to phone, Margi's voice. Margi's loud voice. Be there in five, hang up. Quick call.

  "Wish ...wish could stay ...longer."

  "Me too," Phoebe, snow melting on cheek, catching hair. Shivering. "I wish it wasn't so cold."

  Wish.

  Wish could warm her. Wish could chase the shivers away. Can't.

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  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  "C AN't ...believe... I let

  ... you talk ...me ...into this." Phoebe leaned against Adam in the backseat of Margi's car, resting a cheek against his unyielding arm. They were just outside of New Haven on their way to the train station for another trip to Aftermath.

  "I can't either, but I'm glad I did." She was nervous, though, because Adam hadn't gone any farther than Winford since becoming a zombie. "You'll have fun, you'll see."

  "Too bad ...Karen ...couldn't come," Colette said from the shotgun seat as she toyed with the radio dial. Margi snorted.

  "Less competition." Margi gave Colette a wicked grin. "Not that you 're worried about that."

  "Is Karen working today?" Phoebe asked. "Christmas ...season. Never get ...away ...now." Margi ignored this thread and addressed Phoebe and Adam in the backseat.

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  "Did you guys know that DeCayce has e-mailed Colette like seventeen times since they met? Which was what, three weeks ago?"

  "Seventeen times?" Phoebe leaned over and caught Colette smiling.

  "Who's ...DeCayce?"

  "Just ...ignore her, Adam," Colette said. "Besides, it was ...nineteen ...times."

  "Oh, excuse me, nineteen times. Colette's getting ready for some zombie lovin'."

  Colette slapped her arm, and Margi looked into the rearview at Phoebe and mouthed the word "sorry." Phoebe stuck out her tongue at her and squeezed Adam's arm more tightly by way of reply.

  "Are Skeleton Crew playing tonight, Colette?" She'd noticed that Colette was wearing makeup and a new-looking silky blouse. Her hair was brushed back and had a glossy shine--Phoebe wondered if she was using products from the Z line. Whatever she was using was working. She looked great.

  Margi answered before Colette could get a word in. "Are you kidding? Do you think we'd be going if they weren't?"

  "They are ...playing. Last night...before ...road trip."

  "Send him off smiling, C.B.," Margi said. "Send him off smiling. Are you going to dance tonight, Lame Man? Or are you going sit in the corner like a giant wallflower?"

  "He'll ...dance ...won't you, Adam?"

  "I'm a ...dancing ...machine." He looked at Phoebe and tried to smile.

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  Phoebe was thinking that he didn't really get a chance to dance at homecoming, having ditched his date to take her and the rest of the crew over to the after-party at the Haunted House. But then she remembered that he did dance--with Karen, once they'd arrived.

  "You'll dance with me, won't you, Adam?"

  "You'll...owe ...me," he said.

  She leaned her head back down against his hard shoulder. "I already do," she whispered.

  The club was jumping when they arrived, the dance floor packed with what looked like twice the people than had been there on their previous visit. The increase in population was due almost completely to trad kids--there were loose groups of trads dancing by themselves without any zombies in their midst. The zombies, she noticed, also had a tendency to cluster together. She held Adam's hand as they walked in. Margi and Colette brushed by them, looking for DeCayce. "Wow. Look at all ...the zombies."

  "Isn't it amazing?" Phoebe squeezed his hand, and leaned closer so he could hear her over the loud trip-hop that pulsed from invisible speakers. "I can't believe what Skip has done here."

  "Skip? That's right...this is ...Skip's ...place." f She nodded. "Tommy did a nice interview with him. I

  posted it on mysocalledundeath."

  Adam looked up, scanning the room and taking in the sights and sounds. A trad couple walked by and gave them an

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  odd look, which Phoebe decided to take as "good for you!" She felt Adam's hand tighten over hers.

  The lights were like blue and white rain splashing on his skin.

  "Want to ...dance?"

  "I'd love to," she said, and let him lead her out into the throng on the dance floor.

  They were joined three songs later by Margi and Colette, who had managed to find DeCayce and Bee. Bee paired off with Margi, although neither of them looked thrilled. Colette and DeCayce, on the other hand, were dancing with their faces only inches apart, although the song that was playing wasn't a slow one. Phoebe watched them, fascinated by their obvious chemistry. She wondered if the people who stopped to watch her and Adam did so for the same reason.

  "They look ...happy," Adam said, reconfirming her belief in telepathetic bonds.

  "I think I look happy," she replied, stepping into him for a hug. His arms were slow in enfolding her, but she knew that wasn't the same thing as hesitation.

  "I think ...you look ...beautiful."

  "Aw, I bet you say that to all the trad girls."

  She was always amazed by how his embrace was firm yet gentle at the same time--she knew he couldn't really feel how tightly he was holding her. He was probably strong enough to snap her spine or crush her ribs; his arms felt like steel clamps as they went around her waist.

  A song or two later, Dom, the guitarist for Skeleton Crew, came over to tell DeCayce and Bee that they were on in ten

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  minutes. The boys said their good-byes, DeCayce with a quick kiss to Colette's cheek and a promise to see her after the show. Dom, turning, caught sight of Phoebe and asked her how Karen was doing.

  "She's great." Phoebe replied. "She got a job at the mall, if you can believe it."

  Dom looked puzzled. "Why wouldn't I believe it?"

  "Well, not a lot of zombies work at malls." When Dom just stood there looking stunned she realized she may have said something she shouldn't have. "You knew she was a zombie, right?"

  "She said she was," he said, his voice barely audible above the music. "I thought she was kidding." He shook his head, his thick hair waving as he stared at the floor. "Wow."

  "I'll tell her you said hi?" Phoebe asked, hoping Karen wouldn't want to kill her.

  "Oh, yeah, absolutely! Would you do that for me? That would be great," he said, answering the question behind her question.

  "You know, she has e-mail too."

  "Yeah," he said, gathering himself as though suddenly realizing how cool he was. "I'm not much on tolerating."

  "Seems to be ...working ...for your ...singer," Adam said.

  "Yeah, well. Tell her I said hi, though, okay?" Dom said, and then started angling through the crowd.

  When Skeleton Crew hit the stage, they hit it hard. They led off with a new song DeCayce announced as "The Dead Living,"

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  and Dom's shredding opening riff could blow the dust off a tired soul. The drums came in a moment later like a nest of machine guns, and Bee's bass line was a cavalry charge. The crowd's response was immediate. Pho
ebe looked around her to see dead bodies pogo-ing and slamming into each other, although with considerably less velocity than their living friends could muster. She saw a girl lifted up over the crowd, her body rigid, as many dead hands passed her to the stage. She looked like she had rigor mortis. Phoebe felt the tug of the music on her body, but when she looked at Adam he seemed to be unmoved, even when DeCayce's chorus sailed out over the fast

  rhythm of his band.

  "We are the dead living

  Upfront underground

  Went through hell getting out

  You won't put us back down!"

  Other bodies were borne aloft, and the whole crowd was singing along when he repeated the chorus a second time.

  "There's ... Margi," Adam said, pointing at a body bobbing like a cork on the sea of hands.

  Phoebe squinted against the glare of the stage lights.

  "Colette too! See her, just stepping onto the stage?"

  Adam nodded. DeCayce, his sinewy body twitching as if he were being electrocuted, waved at Colette and then Margi to join him at the front of the stage where they sang the next chorus with him, Colette almost managing to sing the words in the proper time with the music. When the song was over they both

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  returned to the crowd, and the lights were cut to a single spot that bathed DeCayce's bare skin with a bluish glow.

  "Thank ...you," he said to the cheering crowd. "And thank you to our ...beautiful ...backup singers, Colette ...and Margi."

  Adam bellowed an incomprehensible cheer, which pleased Phoebe to no end.

  "This is our ...last night... at Aftermath ...for a while," DeCayce said. He folded his skinny arms to his chest, hugging himself while the crowd moaned in disappointment. "But we'll be ...back. Hell, if I can return ...from death ... I can make it back ... to Aftermath."

  He was a natural performer, Phoebe thought. The melodrama of his movements, the easy banter with the crowd--she couldn't help but wonder what he'd have been like onstage when still alive.

  "We've got to hit ...the road," he continued. "We've got to bring ...our music ...and our message ... to the rest of the country. So that trad people will know ...we're not...monsters or ...grave robbers. We're not what that old gargoyle ... Mathers ... says we are. We're just... people, man."

  The crowd settled into a disgruntled mumble at the mention of Mathers's name, and DeCayce used the lull to deliver his message full force, his voice rising in tone and timbre to match the best of the fire and brimstone preachers, to rival even Reverend Nathan Mathers himself.

  "We've got to let people know that...what they are saying about...our brothers and sisters ... in Connecticut...that they

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  are ...killing pets and ...wrecking graves ... is a bunch of bullshit, man! Straight up ...bullshit!"

  The response was thunderous, and the stage lights returned as Dom hit a random chord.

  "This one is for ...Tommy Williams," DeCayce said, pacing along the lip of the stage. "It's called ...'Headshot.'" Skeleton Crew kicked in with a brutal wave of noise that sent the club dwellers into another frenzy of motion and screaming. Phoebe started dancing in place, her skirt and long hair whirling as she thrashed. It was some moments before she realized that Adam was standing still beside her, watching.

  "You really ...like this ...stuff?" he said, something like a wry grin on his face.

  She slapped his unyielding bicep. "Don't be a lump, Adam. Move that body."

  His response was to start headbanging. Adam headbanging was funny enough, but because his body couldn't quite master the motion, he looked more like a chicken pecking for loose grain in the barnyard than a metalhead. Phoebe thought it was absolutely hilarious.

  "Here," she said, taking his hands in hers. "Move with me."

  Skeleton Crew wasn't exactly playing dance music, but there was enough energy in their playing to get her hips swaying and her shoulders rocking. She held Adam's hands and swung his arms from side to side, but beyond that he didn't move--he just watched her moving in front of him.

  Phoebe thought that was just fine.

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  They found the girls by the stage after the show. Colette was deep in conversation with DeCayce off in a corner, and Margi was with a few people Phoebe remembered from their last trip to Aftermath.

  "Hi, Trent." The boy looked thrilled that Phoebe had remembered him. "How's it going with the library card?"

  His grin was charming, if lopsided.

  "No ... go. I haven't left...the building."

  "We need to get going soon," Margi said, pushing herself up from her perch at the lip of the stage. "There aren't a lot of trains later in the day, and my mom will kill me if we're not home by midnight."

  "Ready when you are." Phoebe had laced her fingers with Adam's, which were pleasantly cool. The air in the club had grown warm and humid, which meant that there had to have been quite a few trads jumping around on the dance floor during the show. "What did you think, Adam? Did you have fun?"

  "Had ...fun. Could watch you ...all ...night." Phoebe thought his smile had become more natural, his face more boyish as the night went on--but maybe it was just the heady club atmosphere playing tricks on her.

  Phoebe, blushing, was glad for the dim lighting of the club. She was also thankful that Margi didn't comment beyond a loud "Awwww."

  Colette and DeCayce walked over, also holding hands.

  "Ready to go, C.B.?"

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  Colette looked at DeCayce, who tightened his grip on her hand. She looked like she was about to cry, if she could still cry.

  "I'm not...I'm ...not...going back ...Margi."

  "What? What do you mean?" Margi said, but Phoebe could tell from the quaver in her voice that she knew exactly what their friend meant.

  "I'm not...going back," Colette repeated. "I'm going with ...Skeleton Crew ... on their ...tour. With ...DeCayce."

  Margi looked like she was going to cry too. She lifted her hand to her mouth like she was trying to hold her words in, and Phoebe, as happy as she was for Colette, suddenly felt terrible for Margi. She looked so forlorn standing there, with her hair matted and her shirt clinging to her skin with sweat. She looked like a puppy that had been abandoned in the rain.

  Colette felt the same way, Phoebe could tell. She was crying in every way except producing tears when she spoke again.

  "We might ... try ... to find ...my brother ... or my parents. Or ...or ...I'll just...travel, I don't...know."

  The silence grew awkward, and the zombies Margi had been partying with started to drift away to give them their moment.

  "Wish me ...luck ...Margi ....please."

  Margi nodded, but she didn't remove her hand from her mouth. Adam was the first to speak.

  "Good ...luck." The low rumble of his voice seemed to kick Margi into action, because she ran to Colette and wrapped her in a forceful hug, finally releasing the emotion she was trying

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  to hold in. Colette hugged her back, making strange hiccupping sounds as Margi poured out her grief.

  "I will take care ...of her," DeCayce said, turning to Adam and Phoebe like they were Colette's parents on prom night. "I'll make sure ...she's safe. We don't take chances when we are ... on the road."

  "We know you will," Phoebe said, watching her friends. She looked at Adam, who released her so she could join their embrace. When they got control of themselves, Margi dried her tears and forced herself to speak, her voice choked with emotion.

  "I'm happy for you, C.B. I really am."

  "Thanks ...Margi. You know ...you know ...how much ..."

  "Shhh." Margi put her finger to Colette's lips. "Don't say it. Don't make it feel anymore like a good-bye than it has to."

  Margi released her and went to DeCayce, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

  "Good luck," she said. "Both of you. Good luck."

  DeCayce looked relieved. Actually, Phoebe thought, everyone looked relieved.

  They sa
id their farewells, made promises to stay in touch, then said some of the things people wish they said to loved ones while they were still alive. Margi managed not to cry again until their train was pulling out of Grand Central Station, but even then it didn't last long. Phoebe offered to drive once they were back in New Haven, but Margi said she could handle it.

  "Aren't you a needy little boy tonight?" Phoebe said, picking

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  Gargoyle off the floor and squeezing him to her. Gar licked her cheek and then her ear. She dropped him on the bed, where he curled up on her favorite pillow.

  She walked to the window and looked down to where a large shadow was moving through the Garritys' backyard. Adam, doing his exercises again. Her lights were out, with only the soft spectral glow of the computer behind her casting any illumination. She didn't think that he'd be conscious of her-- the night was practically moonless, so she could barely see him. But she waved anyhow.

  Her room had grown chilly, and she had put her terry cloth bathrobe on over her pajamas. She sat down at her computer and went online. There were a number of e-mails to mysocalled- undeath.com , one of which had "RE: Colette Beauvoir" in the header line, and also one from Tommy. She knew she was being selfish when she chose the one from Tommy, but Gargoyle was her only witness, and he wasn't going to tell anyone.

  Hi Phoebe, he'd written,

  "I've made it safely to DC. I think I'm going to be staying at least until springtime. There's a lot I want to do here.

  Great, she thought, one line and I'm already starting to tear up.

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  I wanted to let you know I think you guys are doing a great job managing the site. I also think it is a great idea having the "I'm back" section. I had no idea that Colette had a brother and that he might not be aware that she's differently biotic. I saw that you had two more postings from db people the next day. I really hope someone figures out a way to get the picture uploaded for the girl in Omaha. I'm really, really excited about the things you're doing with the site; I'm leaving stacks of the cards we printed up everyplace I think people might use them.