knew you might get in trouble, but nothing like that. Especially since you brought in the human. I mean, that takes some major zombie balls! No one goes into the Stockade alone and comes out.”
I grinned. “It was pretty thriller wasn’t it?”
“Hell yeah it was!” Trevor shot back.
“Well, at least I got some action in Revenant,” I said.
“Man, I feel like this is all my fault. If I hadn’t convinced you to go tracking none of this would have happened.”
I brushed aside his culpability with a flick of my hand. “It was my call. I tried to bring the human in. I guess I had more to prove than I realized.”
“So what are you going to do now?”
“I guess wait for my mentor to come back tonight and get ready for my exile. At least I have a chance to survive.”
“Good luck,” Trevor said without sincerity. “No one survives outside of Revenant. It’s nothing but Stiffs out there. I can’t believe the Mayor would just have you dumped like that.”
“Yeah, well, I gave him a reason to,” I replied.
“I know. But I thought stuff like that only happened to dissenters, not zombie kids like us.”
I sighed. Trevor had no idea. My mentor had told me how the five Wakes that had been dumped this month hadn’t been human sympathizers as the Mayor’s administration had claimed; it was because their positions no longer suited the needs of the community. Three of them were teachers, two from our school. There weren’t enough students anymore to justify so many educators, my mentor explained. The other two, the ones that had been shown at the demonstration my mentor had taken me to in zone C, were human analysts. That was almost a dead profession in Revenant now. A living, uninfected human was considered good stock nowadays. The safest profession in Revenant anymore was courier. Everyone had the need to deliver messages speedily across town. It was also the profession that required the least skill and ability. Sometimes death wasn’t fair.
“Everyone’s at risk of being dumped nowadays,” I told him.
Trevor shook his head. “I’m sorry, man.”
“Maybe I should make a break for it,” I suggested. “Try to find a home that’s willing to hide me and keep me safe.”
“Maybe,” Trevor hummed in reply. “There aren’t a lot of Wakes that do that anymore, especially since the government started distributing brain rations.”
“Maybe your mentor –” I began.
He shook his head at my thought. “She’d never do that, Zell. And we don’t have enough brain rations for you. I wish I could help, man. I’m in enough trouble as it is.”
I nodded my understanding. I was asking too much of Trevor, and I had already gotten him in enough trouble anyway. “Without rations I’ll skid anyway. What’s the difference if I do it here or out there?”
“Maybe it’s better to go straight to the Stockade. Get it over with,” Trevor mused seriously.
“I’m dead either way.”
Trevor nodded solemnly. “Damned if you do. Damned if you don’t.”
I huffed out and threw myself up off the floor. I turned to leave his bedroom.
“Where are you going?”
“For a walk.”
“Are you gonna run for it? If you are let me know. I’ll help you.”
“Thanks, Trev, but I just need to be alone and think right now. I don’t know what to do.”
“Okay,” Trevor said doubtfully.
“I’ll be back,” I promised as I stepped out of his bedroom. But I didn’t know if I would.
I traipsed down the stairs and hurried to the front door. “Don’t wander too far, young zombie,” Mrs. Kushner called from the kitchen. It was like she could see through walls. “Don’t go doing something stupid.”
She let me go, though. Maybe she thought doing something stupid was the better thing to do.
I walked across the long, grassy field, kicking up the dust of dandelions as I went. The sun was off in the distance now, and it was a warm, clear late afternoon. My last day before I was exiled from Revenant forever was a beautiful one. I wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it.
I didn’t know what to do. If I stayed and went through with my exile, I’d eventually skid back to being a Stiff and either be left to roam or ultimately be killed. I couldn’t stay in Revenant. That wasn’t an option. Even if there had once been Wakes who had set up safe houses for those who had been dumped to try to protect them and keep them undead, rations were too tight now. Only enough was afforded by the Mayor to survive each individual Wake. To give up your share to someone else now put yourself at risk of skidding. Nobody took that risk nowadays. And if I was caught, it meant instant death.
I kicked at some dirt as I came to the path leading up to the barn. Stay or run. Either way I was going to die. It just depended how I wanted to.
I found myself following the trail up the hill to the barn. The doors were chained shut, as was protocol when a human was being held inside. I put in the numbers for the combination lock and slid it off, pulling the clinking chains out and dropping them in a pile of twining metal on the ground. I drew open the heavy barn door, the hinges screeching, and stepped inside, leaving it open to allow the sun to pour in and accord some more light.
I paused before Morgan’s stall. She was half-sitting up on the single bed inside, propped up by her elbows and looking at me. She wore the same clothes from the night before with a blanket wrapped around her upper body in place of her torn shirt, which likely hadn’t been returned to her.
“How do you feel?” I asked quietly.
“Terrific,” she mumbled, falling back against the bed. “Is this my first interrogation?”
“No,” I said.
“Then what do you want?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Then leave me alone,” she said, and turned back onto her side.
I started to turn to leave. But I didn’t. We weren’t supposed to talk to humans. They were manipulative and would say anything to get free. I looked back into her stall. “I don’t want to die.”
“I guess it’s lucky you’re a zombie,” she said, her voice flat.
“They’re going to exile me.”
“What?”
“I have to leave town. Forever. The Mayor wasn’t happy I brought you in. I broke the laws of the town. I’m going to die out there.”
She turned in bed and looked up at me with a perplexed expression. “Why? I thought you needed humans to survive.”
I shrugged. “I’m still in school. I’m not supposed to be tracking.”
“That explains why you sucked so bad at it.”
“Hey!”
She grinned wickedly. “I did get away. That was pretty good, wasn’t it?”
“You almost got away from a Wake who had never gone tracking before in his death. That’s not much of an accomplishment. And I did capture you again. I went into the Stockade and brought you out. That’s pretty good, don’t you think?”
She shrugged. “If I could survive for a week in there, then you surviving for an hour doesn’t say much.”
“Maybe not,” I admitted.
“Are they really going to kill you?”
“No. But without brain rations I’ll just revert back to being a Stiff. We don’t kill Wakes unless we have to. We just let them become not Wakes.”
“Sounds like the same thing to me.”
“It is. It’s just technically different.”
“Well, that sucks for you.”
“Yeah.”
“What’s so bad about being exiled? At least you have a chance to survive.”
“I won’t last. I need brains to stay a Wake. Without them I’ll skid and become like a regular zombie again. I won’t last more than three days. And that’s a fate worse than death.”
Morgan sat up in bed. “Zellner. Can I trust you?”
“No,” I said simply.
“What if
I told you I could help you stay alive?”
“I’d say you’re lying.” Humans always lied when they saw an opportunity to escape.
“Fine. Then die, Mr. I Want To Live Forever.”
I sighed. “Tell me.”
She stood and came to the bars of the stall. I took a step back.
She looked at me strangely. “I don’t bite.”
“Sorry. We aren’t supposed to be too close to humans.” I took a step forward again. It didn’t matter. She was already infected and she couldn’t hurt me.
She wrapped her hands around the bars of the stall and looked out toward me. Her face was bright against the sunlight streaming through the barn doors, her light freckles announcing themselves against her skin. Her hair was frizzy and all over the place.
“There are a lot of humans at my camp,” Morgan said.
“The human safe zone? Well, yeah.”
“I can take you there.”
I lowered my brow at her. “Sure. But you wouldn’t. That would be stupid.”
“Listen,” she hissed. “You’re already dead here, right? We lose a lot of humans every week. From illness or lack of clean water. We’re really low on supplies and we don’t have any medicines left. I can show you where we bury them. It’s a smorgasbord of brains. Really.”
“Only living human brains keep us undead,” I objected.
“There must be some leeway. After they die, I mean.”
There was. Between ten and fifteen minutes before the brain had no effect at all when we ate them. My expression didn’t change.
“You can survive like that.”
“If the humans found me they would kill me. I may be a zombie, but I’m no match for a horde of angry humans. And I suppose they have weapons.”
She nodded. “Yeah. Some. But not a lot. And they don’t keep guard. They won’t find out. You’ll