Kiss of Life

by Daniel Waters

  "Your ...phone, Phoebe ...give it ... to me!"

  Phoebe went digging, the phone suddenly a wriggling fish swimming at the bottom of her bag, but then she caught it, turned it on, and with shaking hands passed it to Karen.

  Margi was clinging to Adam, who stood in stunned silence.

  "She's ...she's been taken apart," Margi whispered.

  Kevin, distraught, shuffled from side to side, his left leg dragging behind him, his stiff arms waving.

  "Help ...her ...help ...her ..."

  Karen held up the phone and started snapping photos. On

  348

  the third flash, Sylvia opened her eyes, and Phoebe and Margi both shrieked again. Karen ran to where most of the girl hung, and when she spoke her voice was reassuring and steady.

  "We're going to get you out of here, honey. Don't ...worry."

  Sylvia's mouth moved, but no sound came out. It looked like she might have been trying to speak. Across the room, her arm twitched twice and then lay still.

  "Phoebe." There was an element of command in Karen's voice now, and Phoebe forgot about her fear when she heard her name. "Help me with these straps. Adam, wheel that gurney over here. Margi and Kevin ...collect...the rest of her."

  "Oh, Karen, I don't know if I can ..."

  "Do ... it, Margi! Phoebe, get that...scalpel."

  The voice at the door froze them all where they stood.

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

  They turned, and Alish stood in the doorway, the sadness on his face deepening the many wrinkles there. Duke Davidson stood with him, holding what looked to Phoebe like a Taser, or a gun.

  "You ...monster. We ...trusted ...you," Karen said.

  Phoebe watched Karen walk toward Alish and Duke. She'd plucked the scalpel from Phoebe's hand without even breaking stride. Duke stepped forward and braced himself in front of Alish. The old man waved his hands, one of which still held his cane.

  "Please, please," he said. "Hear me out. Please. This isn't what it seems."

  349

  "It...seems ...you ...are ... dissecting... her. Vivisecting ...her," Karen said.

  Phoebe gasped as Adam and Kevin began to surge forward. Duke's voice was a gunshot, and they halted, as though by supernatural command.

  "Not another step!" Duke's body was tense with the promise of easy violence. He was smiling.

  Time seemed to freeze, and in that moment, when all eyes were on Karen, Phoebe reached over and palmed her phone. Karen had left it on the table beside Sylvia. She was pretty sure that Duke wouldn't let them leave with the phone--if he would even let them leave.

  "Please, please," Alish was crying, and Phoebe could hear the tick tick tick of Angela's heels as she ran down the hall. "Please, just listen to me."

  Karen held the knife, and there was nothing like mercy in her diamond eyes. There was no fear. When she spoke, her voice was a voice from the grave.

  "Speak."

  "You can't move her," Alish said. "Not when she's like this. She'll reterminate. She needs the fluids we're giving her."

  Phoebe looked behind her at Sylvia, although it was difficult to do so. She saw curling plastic tubes attached to her friend, each pumping a violet fluid into or away from her.

  Karen pointed at Alish with the knife. "Put her ...back ...together."

  "We will. That was the purpose all along, you see. We ..." "Now."

  350

  Alish looked at her. By this time Angela had joined them in the lab, and Phoebe thought the expression of sympathy on her face was the most hypocritical thing she'd ever seen.

  "It isn't that simple, Miss DeSonne. The procedure is a lengthy one, and delicate, and ..."

  "I'll ...wait."

  Alish shook his head. "You couldn't stay. It would be very, uh, unpleasant for you."

  "Unpleasant? Un ...pleasant?" She took another step forward. "I'm ...dead, monster ...you don't know ...what ...unpleasant is."

  Another few steps and she would be within Duke's striking distance, and had settled into himself, as though preparing for her attack. He watched the dead girl, his face blank.

  Alish's whining grew louder. "You don't understand," he said. "We're helping her. We're really helping her."

  Angela walked forward, shrugging off Duke's hand as she moved past. "Karen, please. I know what this looks like. But my father is right, we really are helping Sylvia. When the procedure is done she'll be better. She'll be like you, able to speak and walk and everything else. You need to trust us."

  "Trust...you."

  "Yes, Karen. Trust us. We've always only had your best interests at heart. Please put the knife down."

  Karen looked back at Sylvia, whose mouth still worked soundlessly.

  "You expect me ... to trust...you."

  "I do, Karen. Put the knife down."

  351

  Karen hesitated. "But just ... look ... at her." The scalpel slid from her fingers and struck the tile with a hollow clink.

  The zombies wanted to stay until Sylvia was reconstructed, but Alish, backed up by Davidson, insisted that it wasn't possible. They were actually in the middle of the process, he said, which they expected to last another week. Alish blew his nose on a handkerchief and told them that Sylvia would be returned to them for the next class.

  "There won't be ...another class," Karen responded. "Ever."

  Thorny was waiting in the encounter room with Cooper and Melissa, and Phoebe would have found their obliviousness hilarious if she wasn't still reeling from the discovery in the lab. Karen, sparing no detail regarding Sylvia's condition, told them what they'd just seen. She told them that Undead Studies was canceled, permanently. She didn't need to take a vote, the consensus was immediate, if unspoken. She advised Cooper to leave the foundation with them, and the dead boy agreed.

  "Can I ...stay ... at the ...Haunted House?"

  Karen looked back at the door, where Angela stood sucking on her lower lip.

  "For ...now," Karen replied. "I think we'll need to ...move. Ms. Hunter, would you please get the van to pick us up? As in ...right now?"

  Angela, sighing, said she would.

  "I can't believe it," Thorny said. "I can't even believe it." "Believe it," Phoebe told him.

  352

  The students decided to wait for the bus in the foyer. Most of them were all too eager to get on the bus and leave what they'd witnessed or heard about, but Phoebe hung back so she could hear Karen's parting words, which she delivered with ice-cold brevity right to Alish.

  "I'll be back in a week for ...Sylvia," she said. "I'll be bringing ...friends."

  Alish assured her that he'd have Sylvia ready, and then they joined the others, who sat in a cluster toward the center of the bus.

  Phoebe took her seat next to Adam, who looped a heavy arm around her shoulders. Karen sat apart from the others, a few rows up.

  "Are you okay, Karen?"

  Karen ignored the question. "He got us ...again. Damn ...him."

  Phoebe was confused at first, wondering how the comment applied to Alish, but then she recalled the ghost of a smirk on Pete's face as he'd exited the building.

  Karen punched the seat in front of her, and it sounded like she'd used enough force to splinter bone.

  353

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  "AII differently biotic students are to report to room one eleven for study hall..." Phoebe was late to the cafeteria, having tried to spend a few extra minutes in the hallway with Adam before Principal Kim reluctantly chased her away. Margi was at their usual table, sitting by herself.

  "Just you and me today, kid," Phoebe said, smoothing her skirt. "Anything good to eat?"

  "You can have whatever you want, I'm not very hungry," Margi said. "Where are Adam and Karen?"

  "You didn't hear the announcement? Zombies aren't allowed in the cafeteria anymore. They have to go sit in a study hall with Principal Kim."

  "You're kidding."

  "Does that sqund like something I'd kid
about?" "Jeez. Actual segregation. Unreal. I think trads should be the ones that get segregated."

  354

  "I guess we are, by default."

  Margi hadn't really eaten anything, her bag of cookies was unopened, and her sandwich had been picked at, but all of the parts seemed to be present on the napkin spread before her. "You want any of my stuff?"

  Margi shook her head. "I used to think being dead might be the way to go."

  "Oh, Margi ..."

  "No, no. I mean zombie dead, not dead dead. I just thought it might be cool, you know, never having to sleep, being invulnerable to pain, going out at night and basically doing whatever you want. That's all. That freedom, to be outside of society."

  "I don't think many zombies are enjoying that freedom right now, Gee."

  "I know, I know. It wasn't like I was going to kill myself or anything."

  "That's good, because not everyone comes back. Especially ..." Here Phoebe was going to say, "especially suicides," but Karen was an exception to that rule. "Especially because you have so many people who love and care about you."

  "Ease up, Pheebes. I told you I wasn't really thinking about it. And now, after seeing Sylvia, there's no way I'd want to be a zombie. I still can't believe what they did to her, even if it was in the name of science. Do you believe what Alish was saying? Do you really think he was trying to help her?"

  Phoebe thought about it. "I believe that Alish thinks he's helping, that the ends will justify the means. The problem is, I don't think he knows what he is doing. How could he?"

  355

  "I thought the needles and the reflex tests were creepy enough, but this--this is just crazy. Do you think ... do you think Sylvia's the first zombie they've experimented on?"

  "I don't know. Probably not."

  "Me neither."

  Margi looked over at the next table, where a bunch of trad students were laughing and carrying on as though nothing in their world had changed. Phoebe realized that nothing had changed--for them.

  "Makes you wonder where the ones before Sylvia went."

  They ate in silence for a moment.

  "Karen sent the photos to the Winford Bulletin and a bunch of other places," Phoebe said. "It took us forever to figure out how to get the photos from the phone to the computer."

  "I saw them on mysocalledundeath, but I really couldn't look at them. They're too horrible. I was surprised the Web site was still up, though. Doesn't the foundation control it?"

  Phoebe nodded. "I was locked out this morning. There's a big ole 'under construction' banner there."

  "Nice. How will you get in touch with Tommy?"

  Phoebe wondered if Margi could detect the wave of guilt that rose up in her upon hearing Tommy's name. She'd be lucky if Tommy read another e-mail from her ever again after the flame-mail she sent.

  "I've got a private e-mail address. Karen and I are going to have to set up a different site. Luckily we have all the photos kids sent backed up." She could tell Margi had more Tommy questions, so she quickly changed the subject. "Hey, that

  356

  reminds me. Have you heard from Colette?"

  Margi smiled. "She called me from Dom's cell phone the other day. She's in New Jersey for a few days, and it sounds like she's having a blast."

  "That's great. At least someone's happy."

  "Yeah. She sounded so good, Phoebe. So alive. She wants us to call her together in a few days." A cloud crossed her face. "Oh, man. We should probably call her today. I don't want her to find out about Sylvia on TV. I didn't even think about calling her I was so upset."

  "I know what you mean. I went over to Adam's last night and all we did is watch the news. We never watch television."

  "Oh no? What do you usually do?"

  She said it casually, but Phoebe caught the evil glint in her eyes. "We take long walks in the woods. We walked all the way to Oxoboxo Lake the other day."

  "Long walks, huh?"

  "Yes, Margi. Long walks. Very long walks." She leaned back in her chair. "It's starting to get really cold, though. It doesn't bother him, but I can't stand it when it gets cold and windy. I don't know what we're going to when we can't walk."

  "You'll think of something."

  "Margi! Stop it!"

  "Whaaaaat?" Feigning innocence, which she couldn't quite pull off. "I'm just saying, you're very creative, and ..." "Margi! Not another word!"

  Margi laughed and put her peach pit on her napkin. "Okay, okay. Did you hear the latest? Zombies come back from

  357

  the dead because of vitamin C deficiencies."

  "That isn't even close to true. You're thinking of scurvy."

  "You're no fun," Margi replied, pouting. "I know what I'm going to do when I graduate."

  "Thanks for that message from far left field, Margi. What do your future career plans have to do with anything?"

  Margi cleared a space in front of her and folded her arms on the table, then rested her head on her arms.

  "I'm going to work with the undead. Really work with them, for them, not like the foundation. I want to be the one to discover how they come back, and I want to be the one that discovers how they can come back even more."

  "I think you would be great at that."

  "I think I can make a difference. I know that sounds clichéd, but I believe it. Once I got over my guilt and all that luckiness, I think I really helped Colette. She'd 'returned' quite a bit by the time she left with DeCayce, you know?"

  "You were wonderful with Colette," Phoebe told her. "She's happy now because of you."

  Margi sat up and rubbed her nose. "I can talk to people, and I'm a good friend. I think I just need to learn the science stuff so I can help people like Sylvia."

  She looked out over the cafeteria, where the trad kids talked and joked and ate and were mostly unaware that the zombies weren't present in the lunchroom today.

  "I better get cracking, though. I'm getting a C in biology."

  "Are you ...sure ...you want to go with us ...tonight?" Tak

  358

  said to the beautiful girl beside him. They were sitting in back of the Haunted House, alone except for Mai, who had been staring into the sky since Tuesday.

  "Oh, I'm ...sure," Karen said, and he heard it again, the subtle hitch in her speech that conveyed how emotional she was. How angry.

  When he first heard her story about Sylvia, a girl he had barely met, he'd been secretly thrilled, his mind leaping instantly to all the different ways that the Sons of Romero could make use of not only the story itself but the wellspring of fury that was flowing from Karen. But the more she told it, the wilder she became. She had so much rage inside her that it almost scared him.

  Almost.

  "What do you ...think ... he thinks about?" he said, nodding to Mai, who was sitting on his rock. Tak had tried many times to recruit the boy, but he didn't seem interested in anything but the sky since Tommy had left.

  "Who? Mai?"

  "Yes."

  "He's praying."

  "Really?" There was still an edge in Karen's voice, so Tak wasn't sure if she was kidding or not." "Really."

  "He ...told you that? He ...talks to you?" "He used to."

  Tak looked at Mai, at the light frost that covered his body. George shambled out of the woods just then, clutching something to his chest.

  359

  "What did you ...see when you ...died, Karen?" Karen looked at him.

  "Did you see a white warm light like some of our ...family? Did you see ...the faces of those that went before ... or did you feel ... an elation, like every happy memory you have ...ever had was being ... recalled at once? I have heard ...our family ...tell stories ...like these."

  Karen shook her head.

  "Or did you see ... a blankness ... a void ... a void that swallowed up your screams ...without even ...the gift... of an echo?"

  He held out his hand to her. She stared at it a moment, then took it. He helped her to her feet.


  "Tak," she said, "we don't know what we ...saw ...when we died ...was real. We just...don't know. Kevin said ... he saw a baseball field. Green, the grass cut just so. I saw ... I saw ...Mai said ..."

  She stopped for a moment, as though collecting her thoughts, or catching her breath.

  "Mai said he saw God. He said that ...God ...spoke to him. He's been looking for ...Him ...since."

  Tak smiled. "Really?"

  She surprised him then by laying her hand alongside his ruined cheek. Her face softened, as though the anger had finally left her. She stepped forward and hugged him, tightly.

  "Don't do it, Tak. Don't...give in ... to despair. I gave in ...in life ...and now I've got a second chance."

  "Is that was this is?" he said. His cheek was a chiseled piece

  360

  of ice next to hers, but he held her as tightly as she held him. "A second ...chance? Does your friend ...Sylvia ...think this is ... a second chance?"

  She held him. "We have to ...believe it is, Tak. We ... have to."

  "Why?" he said. But it felt good holding her. In fact, it felt better than anything he'd experienced since his return.

  "Why," he said. "Why ...didn't I ...see?"

  "I don't know, Tak. I don't know why we all saw what we saw. But we're here now. Isn't that...good enough? Maybe next time ... maybe next time we'll get to see if... if there is a God."

  "If there is, Karen ...don't you see how that's worse?" he said. "It's so much worse if He exists."

  "What...what do you mean?"

  "If there is a God," he told her, "if there is ... he turned us away. We were there ...and he ...turned us ...away."

  She held him tighter then, as if for a moment he was the rock that anchored her from spinning out into the universe. She buried her face in his shoulder, and he thought he could feel her lips moving against his neck, like she was praying. He could feel her against him. He felt, and the feeling was so strong that it actually made him question, if only for a moment, the nonbelief he'd carried so strongly since picking his broken body off of the Garden State Parkway and limping down the exit ramp.