A Living Dead Love Story Series

by Rusty Fischer

  “Like here,” I begin, then stop myself midsentence. I cock my head. “But you said people didn’t go missing in Seagull Shores until after we got here.”

  She averts her gaze. “You . . . This was a special case.”

  “You followed me?” I ask, feeling more creeped out by the second. “But how?” I picture Stamp and me stumbling through the sagebrush and scrub pines as we trudged down the east coast of Florida. I know I’m about as clueless as a zombie can be, but no way a chick like Lucy could have stayed on our trail the whole time.

  She shakes that straight black hair side to side. “Vera followed you, saw where you were heading, and sent me here.”

  “Here, to this house?”

  “Once they saw you move in next door, yeah. They set me up. Nothing fancy, just an address and a sleeping bag, some spending money, and they enrolled me at school. Just like I did for you. Well, they did for you.”

  “I thought I was Vanished. But it turns out I’m just bait.”

  I’m not gonna lie; her expression is kind of condescending. I can picture her back in school before Zerkers came into her life, before Vera. She was probably one of those girls I wouldn’t have gotten along with anyway. You know the ones: pretty, smart, but totally focused, zero comprehension of sarcasm, and no real sense that everyone else thinks they’re entitled, stuck-up biotches.

  “You’re not bait, Maddy. You’re just part of a team.”

  “What team?” I huff.

  I dunno, for whatever reason, that superior tone of hers has me wanting to shove her head into a dorm fridge right about now. Or better yet, into that wonky fan in the back that keeps making metallic noises every few minutes. Try being a Sleeper without eyelashes, woman!

  “The team. You know: you, Vera, me.”

  I imagine the bliss of kicking her in the shins.

  Suddenly, she’s the one schooling me. “How do you think this all works? How do you think a few dozen Sentinels and some Keepers keep a lid on every outbreak, every new zombie alert?”

  I hate to admit it, but she’s got me there. “I honestly don’t know. I guess I just assumed . . . Well, I never stopped to think about it.”

  She nods impatiently, as if I’ve interrupted her mojo or something. “This is how. With Sleepers. A coroner here, a sheriff, librarian, federal employee, or reporter there. It’s a network of us working with them working with us.”

  “But why? Why would humans work with zombies? I mean, look at what happened to your family.”

  She blinks, as if this is the stupidest question known to man. I dunno, I’m all befuddled, and maybe it is. “That’s exactly why I’m doing this. I’m not as tough as you or a Sentinel like Dane or Courtney—”

  “She’s not a Sentinel.” Can’t anybody keep this straight? “She’s Sentinel Support.”

  Lucy gives me major WTF face. “Whatever. Jealous much? Either way, I was lost, just sitting there, and Vera mentioned this program, where people like me could help. She knew I’d seen the Zerkers and knew what was up. And more than anything, I didn’t want anyone else to go through what I had, losing their whole family like that. So if I can spend the rest of my life looking out for those yellow-eyed beasts, why wouldn’t I?”

  “Okay, okay,” I hold up a hand to physically stop her from lecturing anymore. This is worse than school. But I guess she has a point. I think of everybody who’s ever lost a son or daughter, sister or brother, husband or wife, friend or neighbor. Wouldn’t they all make good Sleepers too? And wouldn’t some of them happen to be cops or coroners or mail carriers or just plain neighborhood snoops who could put in a call to Vera if they saw some yellow-eyed hooligan gnawing on the neighbor dog’s brain or snatching up joggers out of the middle of the street?

  I sigh, run my hand across my face, then do it again. “So you and Dane and Courtney have been laughing behind my back this whole time?”

  She wrinkles her nose and looks hurt I’d even say such a thing. “What? No? Why? I don’t even know those guys, and they sure don’t know me.”

  “But you said—”

  “Vera recruited me, not the Sentinels. I mean, I assume they know about Sleepers in general, right? But not any particular Sleeper, per se. Do they? Would they?”

  I shrug.

  “From what Vera said, the Keepers like to keep their Sleepers on the down low.”

  I nod, as if I have any idea what she’s saying. As if I care. It’s none of my business anymore anyway, except when people lie to me. “So where’s Vera now?” I ask, almost relieved to hear that somebody’s in touch with the Keepers.

  But she frowns and kicks at the carpet like a little kid might. Or Stamp. “That’s just it. All of a sudden, she’s not returning my calls.”

  “Of course she isn’t.” I stand, then pace around the room in tight circles. “’Cause that would be just too flippin’ easy!”

  Chapter 31

  The Exchange Student

  I stay with Lucy until morning. She gets a little sleep but not much. I get none because, well, for obvious reasons. Basically I just sit there, watching her snore as the night wears on or, when that gets old, walk the halls of the empty house.

  I come back just before dawn and sit down a little louder than I should, but maybe that’s because I’m lonely and wish stupid Normals didn’t have to sleep so much.

  She wakes up quickly, as if she was never even asleep. Just sits up from a dead slumber and smiles shyly and reaches into the dorm fridge and grabs some gross-looking energy drink in a double-long can with neon-bloodred letters down the side.

  I try to read them sideways as she guzzles. They say Level Up or Level Out, and it’s not very good branding because I wouldn’t even know what to ask for if I walked into some random Stop N Go to ask for one. She lets me have a sip, and I think it may be my most newest favorite thing on the entire planet.

  I finish it off, and she scowls.

  That’s it. Her wake-up is complete. I have to admit, I’m more than a little impressed.

  We talk a little and, in the end, decide not to bring up the whole Sleeper thing to the others. Dane; Courtney; Stamp, naturally. What would it solve? Either they already know and are keeping it from me (bastards!), or they don’t need to know because screw the Sentinels anyway. What have they ever done for me except turn the man I wanted to spend my afterlife with into a workaholic player? Let them figure out about Sleepers on their own time.

  We take turns with the shower and dress in our school uniforms just like roommates.

  We walk out to the driveway and meet Dane, who looks all freshly scrubbed and fifty shades of gray. He’s spiffy in his school uniform, and of course that makes me love/hate/love/hate him all the more.

  I try to hide it by being all businesslike. “Anything else happen last night?” I ask, hating the reporter tone of my voice.

  Lucy notices and, like any good BFF, arches an eyebrow, which is universal girl speak for slow your roll.

  Naturally, I ignore her and stare stone-faced at Dane.

  He shakes his head.

  “Nothing?” I ask.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. I mean, it’s just weird that they went all Greasers versus Socials last night and then didn’t show up again.”

  He looks from Lucy to me. “Well, we could have used a little help scouting the town, but we never saw anymore.”

  I soften my tone a little. “Maybe they were tuckered out.”

  He sniffs. “Maybe.”

  Ugh, this is going worse than I thought. I turn toward the back gate of the house on Lumpfish Lane, where Stamp and Courtney look longingly after us, both for very different reasons.

  Dane nods toward his blonde bimbo. “She’s babysitting again.”

  “Don’t say it like that,” I scold him. I wave at Stamp before sliding into the passenger seat.

  “Why?” he asks from his spot in the back.

  “He doesn’t like it. That’s why.”

 
Lucy starts the car and pulls away, waving at Stamp.

  “Okay, then.” He’s looking out the window. “I won’t.”

  The town is eerily silent as we drive past. The streets are serene. It feels like Christmas morning, when everyone’s still home with their families, not going anywhere for a while, the stores closed and parking lots empty.

  But it’s not. It’s just a normal weekday in October, seven something in the morning when it’s usually not so Deadsville.

  “It feels like today,” Dane says, staring out the window, and I know exactly what he means.

  Lucy and I share a look.

  “What does that mean?” she asks, putting her blinker on to turn up the long, two-lane street that will take us to Seagull Shores Prep, even though there’s no one behind us.

  Dane shrugs. “It just feels like something is going to happen today.”

  She looks at the rearview mirror. “Well, so, where are all your buddies?”

  He doesn’t look back. “I told you, Lucy. There is protocol to be followed. We’re following it.”

  “Did you not see what I saw in that park last night? What more proof do you need for your precious protocol?”

  He sighs, not fogging up the window the way a Normal would. I wonder if he misses that the way I do; I wonder why I care. “Six Zerkers we can handle, Lucy. That is, if they keep to themselves. They don’t want an infestation any more than we do.”

  “How do you know?” Lucy snaps.

  “Look, kid, there are Zerkers in every town all the time. Usually it takes something major to set them off this way. Until we find out what that is, until we have confirmed proof that Val is their ringleader, the Sentinels aren’t going to send reinforcements to help us. Period.”

  She looks at me, hands tight on the wheel. “Is he right?” she says.

  “He’s the Sentinel. I’m a free agent now, remember?”

  She keeps looking from me to the road, from the road to me. I figure she won’t stop until I answer and we’ll do nobody any good if we run into a light pole on the way to school.

  “But, yeah,” I say, “that sounds about right. Sorry, but for now, it’s just us.”

  I sneak a peek at Dane, fiddling with his thin uniform tie. He slips a hand into his pocket and pulls out a generic cell phone. The kind we’d always get at the Stop N Go around the corner from our apartment in Orlando so nobody could trace our calls. And look how well that turned out for us.

  He kind of holds the camera up so Lucy can see it in the rearview mirror. “I spot Val, snap her picture with this, send it to Sentinel City, and we’re all good. Instant cavalry.”

  “How instant?”

  Dang, this chick needs to be on Jeopardy, stat!

  Dane looks back out the window at the gray, silent morn. “An hour or two, no more.”

  I shake my head and murmur, “A lot can happen in an hour, Dane. Let alone two. Especially with someone like Val.”

  He sighs, as if he’s schooling some would-be Sentinel on his first day. “That’s protocol, Maddy. What do you think the teams do all day, huh? Wait around on the town border for a whistle from us? The Sentinels are in other cities, looking for Val as well, on the off chance she’s not in Seagull Shores.”

  “Okay, okay, I’m just not looking forward to spending an hour alone with Val if she’s already turned six or seven kids into Zerkers, you know?”

  He sports a cocky grin. “Trust me, this time you’re not alone.”

  Lucy and I give each other a little can-you-believe-this-guy look as she pulls in at the school.

  She slows down to a crawl, and I see why. Even the student parking lot looks fairly deserted.

  “What is it?” Lucy asks, mostly to herself as she finds a sweet spot right near the school building. “Senior Skip Day or something?”

  I look back at Dane, but he’s already getting out of the car, keeping his cell phone handy.

  I grit my teeth and follow them to the quad. We’re betting against a full-scale infestation on a $19.99 cell phone? Nice. Sure. Why not?

  I shake my head and wonder why Dane bothers with the Sentinels anyway. I mean, I used to think it was like this vast army of well-trained, elite assassins, like G.I. Joe or SWAT or the Stormtroopers or something. And though they look badass with their black berets and new shoulder pads and double Tasers, really they’re kind of stupid.

  And I’m not just saying that because Dane is one and I’m still mad at him. I’m saying that because they’ll dangle kids like me and even Stamp as bait, waiting on the sidelines while Val, or someone like her, is busy turning Normal kids into her Zerker mini army. I mean, those kids may not mean anything to the Sentinels, but they meant something to somebody.

  Those two joggers were just a couple of lovesick kids out for a morning run, and because the Sentinels have some stupid protocol, Val or someone was able to turn them without any interference.

  I know the Sentinels can’t be everywhere, and they’ll never be able to catch all the Zerkers all the time, but hello. They couldn’t send more than Dane and Courtney to sniff out Seagull Shores? I’m not flattering myself, but they know Val and I go way back. Wouldn’t that at least warrant another team or two, just for grins and giggles?

  I sigh and follow along. I keep seeing the face of that jogger as the Zerkers devoured her. What would have happened if I’d stepped from the shadows one minute sooner? Would she have survived? Could I have saved her? What if I’d jumped out two minutes sooner, as she was passing the bushes?

  Better to spook her and have her run away than stand there silently waiting for the Zerkers to come. Was I any better, lying in wait, watching it all unfold, than the Sentinels are now? Isn’t that what they’re doing: sniffing around other towns, waiting for a call from Dane to let them know the bait worked, that I worked, that Val is here and so are a dozen or so new Zerkers?

  I shake my head at the hopelessness of it all. I should have stayed Vanished. I should have walked away from Sentinel City, never looked back, and let Val come and get me alone, the way she’s always wanted. At least then it would be only me and her and nobody else—not Armand, not Cecile, not Jogger Girl or Lucy or anybody.

  I should have sent Stamp away right away. The minute those Sentinels dumped us out of that van, I should have cursed him and kicked him and shoved him until he was alone as well. Then he wouldn’t be here, waiting for Val to take her revenge.

  How, after more than a year as a zombie, could I still think like a Normal?

  When we get to the hallway, it’s full but not full. Maybe it just feels that way because everyone is talking about the new Missing posters lining the bulletin board outside the library. So many now that they dangle off the bottom with Scotch Tape. I count a dozen, easy, and half of them look like the faces lurking in the shadows last night.

  As the crowd drifts away, I move in for a closer look. I tap one and nudge Lucy’s shoulder. “Isn’t this the chick who laughed while the other one knocked books out of your hand my first day of school? The redhead?”

  She nods, averting my gaze, cheeks red.

  I check out the redhead’s name, finding that, not surprisingly, it’s not Ginger after all. “Gingham Thompson,” I say out loud, trying it on for size. “Well, that’s kind of close.”

  Lucy looks at me, concerned. “Are they dead?”

  “Were those the creeps in the park?”

  She looks away again, pointing at Gingham’s poster. She frowns and looks at a few more. “Maybe this one and him.”

  The images all blur together. Young, fresh-faced kids in yearbook photos. Every poster full of hope, listing as many details as possible. “I would guess they’re all gone but not dead. You know what I mean?”

  Lucy nods, but her eyes are still empty.

  “Either way, they’re not coming back. You know that, right?”

  Dane has been so silent I almost forgot he’s been standing there the whole time. “Well, I have a feeling they’re coming back, Lucy, but not al
ive.”

  He points to the posters for emphasis and looks directly at me. “This is a lot more than went missing in Barracuda Bay.”

  I turn to him, the posters making me mad. “Have you seen it happen this fast before?”

  He shakes his head. “Usually the Zerkers lie low, take it easy. If they need to feed, either they make sure the victim never comes back or they make him one of their own. But they do it slowly, one every few months, so nobody gets suspicious. This? This is purposeful. Ten, twelve kids in a week? You don’t turn that many kids if you don’t want to get found out.”

  Lucy starts out looking nervous. Then, as Dane keeps talking, she looks mad. “Do you guys even know what you’re doing?”

  “Yes,” we say, but even as we do, I sense we both know we’re lying just to make her feel better.

  “Just to be sure,” Dane says, grabbing Lucy’s messenger bag, “we all stick together today.”

  “I’ve got a Chem Lab final,” she moans.

  “Then so do we.”

  She looks shocked that we’d even suggest this. “You guys can’t just audit any class you want. This isn’t college.”

  Dane taps the bulletin board and gives her his best haunted, scruffy-headed, hollow-cheeked living dead face. “A dozen of your classmates went missing within a week. Do you think your teachers are going to care if a couple of friends stop in to check out what your Chem Lab or AP English classes are like?”

  She shrinks back a little but, to her credit, doesn’t look to me for help. “Okay, fine. Just back off.” She inches toward her locker as we follow. “But, you know, I’ve got a rep to think about after you guys are gone.”

  Even I snort at that one. Didn’t Vera teach her anything in her Sleeper training? I don’t really know what Sleepers are, and even I know she’s way off base.

  “Lucy, do you understand what’s happening here? You’ll be lucky if you can still spell rep after the Zerkers get through with this place. Seriously, find another gear because we’re way past neutral now. There’s a very good chance half the people you consider friends won’t be here by the time it’s all over. You know that, right?”