Bad things
Jack’s Back
He’s a zombie
He looks good
He’s dead
He found a job
He’s a stripper
He’s staying with me
He’s sleeping on the couch
I think I still love him
He seems interested in another zombie
He’s still the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen
Correction. He’s a gorgeous zombie.
I can’t go out with a zombie. It’s unnatural. I wouldn’t date a vampire either.
He’s a really nice guy.
His arm falls off.
She stared at the list until little white spots danced in front of her eyes. Usually the good outweighed the bad or there were more things in the bad list than in the good list. She had no idea what to do with evens. It only confused her more. She threw her pen across the room and crumpled the paper into a little ball. That felt better. Then she turned her light off, curled up beneath the covers, and for the first time since Jack’s funeral, she cried herself to sleep.
Chapter Eight
Jack in the Box
Jack woke up the next morning after a restful night on Brianna’s comfortable couch. He made up his bed, folded the couch up, and mindful of the chapter on nutrition, made himself fresh squeezed orange juice and whole-wheat toast with honey. He drank his orange juice and then had some herbal tea. He took a multivitamin pill and worked out for half an hour before taking a long shower. Then he put on a ton of deodorant and dressed.
Eating right seemed to come naturally to him, so he wondered if he’d been a health nut when he was alive. His body was in shape. He glanced down at his flat stomach. That was a relief. He’d have hated to come back to life as a flabby zombie.
It was so quiet. He parted the curtains and looked out the window. There were few people at the docks and a lone barge was just pulling up. The cranes and forklifts were still; there was none of the usual bustle. Then he noticed the street lights were still on. He glanced at a clock. Six in the morning. He must have been up since five. He hoped he hadn’t woken Brianna. He sat on the couch and read the zombie diary while he waited for her to get up.
According to the journal, he would never need much sleep unless he seriously depleted his body’s energy supply, in which case a good meal and a nap would usually replenish him. The writing was quaint, and the zombie who had written the book obviously enjoyed the perks his zombie body afforded him. Getting by with little or no sleep and with lots of energy to spare, no wonder zombies were prized as slaves Jack thought. He had the added bonus of being able to move fast. Little by little, he was starting to become fond of his new zombie self.
But questions remained. Most were about his new body, but some were along more practical lines. Would Brianna let him stay here until he could afford a place of his own? Would he even be able to rent an apartment? Who would rent to a zombie? Maybe Dee would cosign his lease. Dee had lent him some clothes until he could get some of his own. He’d also given him an advance on his salary. Jack had two hundred dollars in his new wallet, and he wanted to go shopping and get some clothes. Dee promised him decent wages plus tips, so Jack was optimistic. If Davinia and Chloe’s reactions were anything to go by, he was going to make some money. If his arm didn’t drop off.
He skimmed the book again, looking for some hint as to how to keep limbs in place. Most of the reasons for limbs falling off were listed under chapter twelve, “Don’t Let Yourself Go.” There didn’t seem to be a good way to keep a loose limb in place. Jack thought maybe he could rig up something with an elastic band, or maybe try super glue. He would have to call Mr. Ling-Li anyway and ask about the super speed, and maybe ask about the super glue.
What time was it? Could he call? He looked at the clock on the wall. Almost eight. Mr. Ling-Li was surely awake. He was just reaching for the phone when the bedroom door opened and Brianna walked in.
She wore a pair flannel drawstring pants and a man’s shirt, and on her feet were fluffy, pink slippers with satin bows. She gave him a crooked grin and headed toward the kitchen. “I need a coffee,” she said. She puttered around in the kitchen, heating water in the microwave and then adding instant coffee. Then she came back and sat down next to him on the couch. “How was your audition?”
“Oh, great. Dee says I’m a natural.” Jack settled back on the sofa and crossed one leg over the other. “I’m doing two shows. One ends in the full Monty,” he added, looking at Brianna from the corner of his eye.
She gulped her coffee and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “That’s great,” she said finally. Clearing her throat she said, “So, how do you feel this morning?” Her eyes seemed to stray to his crotch a lot.
“Fine.” He folded his hands over his lap and crossed on leg over his knee. “How is your job?”
“It was all right. Boring. Just the way I like it.” Brianna put her hand on his thigh then blushed and pulled away. “Sorry.”
“About what?” Jack didn’t remember much about going out with Brianna. That bothered him somehow. He wondered if they’d ever had sex, and the thought made his cheeks start to burn.
“You’re blushing,” she said.
“So are you.”
She put her hands to her face. “It’s nothing. I always blush.”
“Maybe I do too.” The burning feeling spread from his cheeks to his chest, then down to his crotch where it made him suddenly and uncomfortably stiff. Now he was the one shifting in his seat. “I, uh, like your slippers,” he said, searching for a safe topic.
“I got them at the Five and Dime.” She stuck her foot in the air and wiggled it. The satin bow flopped sideways.
“Nice.” Jack wasn’t looking at her foot, he was looking at her leg. She had a nice leg. He turned his gaze away. She put her foot down and sipped her coffee. The silence grew between them.
Brianna broke it first. “I was just wondering ...” she bit her lip, her voice trailing away.
“What?”
“Well, if you’d give me a private show. You know, practice. I could be your audience.” Brianna spoke fast.
“You can come to the club today during rehearsal,” said Jack.
“I can’t, I have to work. What about now? Can I get a sneak peek at your show?”
He wondered if he should be shocked. “Right now?”
“Please?” She batted her eyelashes. “I can help you get over your stage fright.”
He hadn’t thought of stage fright. All right. She asked for it. “Do you want music?”
Brianna set her coffee on the table and grinned. “Hold on, let me switch on the radio.”
Music filled the room. He looked around. Something about this was familiar. A faint memory came back and nudged him. He’d already taken his clothes off for Brianna in this room. He closed his eyes and tried to remember more, but nothing else came to him. How strange. Jack faced Brianna and, unbuttoning his shirt, bared his chest. Her mouth dropped open, and she reached up and traced his scar. “Oh, my,” she whispered.
“It’s actually faded a bit since yesterday,” said Jack, looking down at the Y shaped scar on his chest and belly.
“Does it hurt?”
“Oh no. It doesn’t, honest.” He wanted to stand there and feel her light fingertips on his chest, but she gave him a crooked grin and said, “Well, what are you waiting for?”
Then he backed away from her, unbuttoning his cuffs. He pulled his shirt off. He must be good at this. Brianna looked like a deer caught in headlights. Her eyes widened as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down. Slowly.
Brianna started to unbutton her own shirt. Jack missed a step as her hand slipped inside her shirt. His palm suddenly tickled, and he realized he wanted to slide his hand under her shirt and cup her breast.
He pushed his jeans down over his hips and hesitated.
Brianna uttered
a frustrated groan. “Why stop now?”
A rush of heat enveloped him, rising from his toes and burning his cheeks. He suddenly found it hard to breathe. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.” Jack touched his chest. “I feel strange.”
“So do I.” Brianna unbuttoned her shirt all the way down. “It’s a good strange though.”
“Tell me something. Did we ever make love?” Jack had to know.
A startled look crossed her face, and then the crimson rushed into her cheeks. “You don’t remember?”
“I don’t remember ever making love,” he said slowly.
“Oh.” Brianna got up and stood in front of him. “Sort of like you’re a virgin.” She tugged her shirt open, revealing her breasts.
His new life was getting interesting in ways he hadn’t thought of. The breathless, burning sensation hadn’t left him. If anything, it was getting stronger. His eyelids felt oddly heavy. He locked his gaze on Brianna’s and pushed his pants down off his hips. Cool air caressed his body. Closing his eyes, he put his hands out, blindly feeling for her.
Brianna caught his hands and pulled him to her. The shock of her hot skin against his cool skin made him cry out.
“Hush,” she said, and then he was kissing her and running his hands over her naked body. When had she slipped out of her shirt and pants?
“You don’t wear underwear?”
She giggled. “Not when I sleep.”
He sighed, his lips against hers. There was the faint taste of coffee and mint, and the feel of silk as her lips slid open and her tongue traced a line from one side of his jaw to the other. Warm and cold, hot and cool, her mouth explored his while her hands pushed his pants off the rest of the way while pulling him to her bedroom.
And then they were on her bed. Her body, supple and smooth, and his, hard and tense with excitement, rubbing together. He locked his arms around her and rolled over, pinning her beneath him.
“I remember, even if you don’t,” she said. She bit his shoulder, and he opened his eyes. She was looking at him, a smile playing around her lips, her eyes shadowed. His breath came in short gasps and his hips seemed to have a mind of their own. They came together, the bed bouncing and creaking under their weight.
It was magic. When he entered her, his stiff cock gliding into her ready wetness, he had the sensation of plenitude, as if he were finally in the exactly right place at the exactly right time. His chest swelled, his stomach tightened, and he held himself perfectly still, braced on his elbows, so he could savor the moment.
Brianna looked up at him. “Don't move,” she said. “Stay like that.” Then she closed her eyes, uttered a tiny moan, and thrust her hips up and down. His cock slid in and out, while his arms trembled with the effort of not moving. Brianna moved faster, then slower, then arched her back and pressed hard against him and uttered a strangled cry. The pressure which had been building up inside him burst, and he grabbed Brianna and held her tightly to him. He thought he would never stop ejaculating. A cry tore from his throat, and he buried his face in the pillow. Brianna dug her fingers into his back and pulled him tightly to her, crooning into his ear.
“It's all right,” she was saying. “It's all right.”
When Jack pressed his chest against Brianna’s, he felt her heart beating, and its pounding resonated in his own chest. He closed his eyes, sudden tears stinging them. Like this, wrapped in her arms, he had a heart that beat.
It wasn’t until Brianna pushed him off her that Jack realized he’d fallen asleep. He rolled over, propped himself up on one elbow, and looked down at her. She grinned at him. Her hair was spread over the pillow; a flaming corolla, and her cheeks were still faintly stained with pink.
“I fell asleep,” he said.
“I know. Sorry I woke you. I have to get up and go to work.”
He tried to get up, stumbled, and fell, sprawling on the floor. Brianna leapt off the bed and grabbed his arm. Unfortunately it was the wrong arm and it came off in her hand. She gave a startled scream, dropped it, and then plunged over to the other side of the bed where he heard her gagging.
“I’m sorry, so sorry,” he said, putting his arm back on and trying to lever himself off the floor. Why were his legs so wobbly?
“It’s all right. I’m … I’m fine now.” She stood up, her face still pale. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” Jack lied.
“Do you think that zombies should make love?” she blurted.
“I should ask May about that.”
“Who?”
“The zombie girl. May. She’s …” He paused, not sure how to describe May. A little warning bell in his head told him that telling Brianna that he thought May was beautiful might not be a good idea. “She’s a zombie so she should know.”
“Oh.” Brianna backed away from him, her cheeks glowing even more red. “I’m sorry. This was a bad idea . Excuse me. I’d better get dressed. I have an appointment at ten.” She stepped past him and turned off the music. She hesitated, then blurted, “Can we just pretend that this never happened? It was too soon, we should have waited. It's not the same as before at all.”
If she’d used a knife to carve the words on his chest, it couldn’t have hurt less. “All right. What time will you be home?” Jack ached to take her in his arms, but she was buttoning her shirt and backing away from him like he had the plague.
“Late. I have a major client. He’ll be in the city another two days and he’s hired me for the whole time.”
“Someone important?”
“Someone paranoid.” Brianna shrugged. “He’s loaded and goes to the casinos on the reservation with a ton of money. I’m just there to make sure he doesn’t get mugged.”
“I’m doing the grand opening in two days,” said Jack. “Will you be there?”
Brianna sighed. “I’ll try to be there.” She went to the bathroom, shut the door firmly, and he heard the shower running.
When the door closed he pulled his clothes back on and sat down on the couch. He felt totally drained. Why had Brianna backed away from him like that? Was she revolted by him? Should zombies even have sex?
He took a quick look in his zombie guidebook under the chapter entitled “Everything You Wanted to Know About Zombie Sex.” It wasn’t that explicate, but it showed him that sex was possible, no problem, but it could be exhausting for zombies. Unlike living creatures, zombies had to replace the energy they’d burned immediately or face the consequences. All he had to do was make sure he ate something afterwards. His body’s metabolism had completely changed and resembled more a fuel-burning engine than anything else. The chapter also mentioned other undead such as vampires, and Jack was smugly pleased to read that vampires went nearly catatonic after sex.
Chapter Nine
Zombie Dreams
Brianna rode the subway and went to work, but for the first time in her life she could hardly concentrate on anything around her. Life had suddenly been turned upside down. The impossible had happened. Her boyfriend was back. It had scared her, and then she’d accepted it. Maybe it was because she’d been followed by death her whole life. She was always getting into scrapes and nearly dying, so perhaps that had helped her believe Jack had really returned. He was back. He needed her. That’s all that mattered right now.
Her body still tingled from their lovemaking. Her cheeks burned when she remembered it. Maybe there was hope after all. A slim, just being born hope, like the first, pale pink light of dawn, lifted her spirits to the sky.
Her euphoria didn’t last. He wasn't the same person as he'd been before. She felt that keenly. She'd tried to pretend they could take up where they'd left off, but it had been a huge mistake. The lovemaking had been sublime, but when his arm fell off, she'd nearly fainted. She still felt a little sick. And there was that zombie-girl, May, to contend with. When Jack had mentioned her, there was something in his voice Brianna didn’t like at all. Her mood darkened, only to turn completely black when she met her new client. He was a nervous
businessman in a bad mood. At the casino, he promptly lost three thousand dollars and took it out on a waitress. He snapped at people and was incapable of saying simple words like “please” and “thank you”
Brianna tried to pretend she didn’t know him, even though she was sitting at the same table. He didn’t try to talk to her. He only shoved food into his mouth and shifted his beady eyes around the room as if looking for danger. Brianna was paid to look for danger. She didn’t think her client was going to get mugged at the Gold Digger Saloon Bar and Grill. His steak might choke him though. Well, she could wish. Her holster was digging into her breast, which was still tingling from Jack’s touch. She didn’t eat. She wasn’t being paid to eat. She would grab a sandwich when her client sat down at the Black Jack table as per her contract. Her client finished his lunch and went back to the game room, Brianna his shadow.
She stayed nearby but not too close. He’d told her he didn’t like to feel stifled. He played roulette for a while, losing more money and becoming more uptight. Finally he stomped off to the blackjack table and Brianna breathed a sigh of relief and headed toward the café.
She grabbed a tuna sandwich and a bottle of mineral water. When she finished she was still hungry, so she took an apple from a fruit vending machine and made her way back to the gambling room. The decor in the reservation casino was resolutely faux Native American with garishly painted totem poles, tepee shaped stations for drinks and snacks, suede and leather and turquoise trim on everything, and everyone working there including the waiters and waitresses had to be Native American or at least live on the reservation. And they had to wear costumes that would not have looked out of place on a romance novel cover.
Brianna was fantasizing about Jack dressed in soft suede leggings with his chest bare, and a bear-tooth necklace on, when her client uttered a bellow of rage. “Hey you!”
Brianna was at his side in an instant. Her client was fuming at a slim young boy dressed in jeans and a white tee shirt. He looked about ten years old, and was probably one of the workers’ kids.
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