Chapter 15
“Oh shit,” said Kevin. He grabbed the little vial of inhibitor right before it rolled off the table I was jostling with my tremors. Spense jumped out of his chair and rushed over to where I was lying. He rolled me over on my side.
“Give him the inhibitor,” Spense yelled. He held out my arm to Kevin. I tried to pull it away. Marilyn and Spense were the ones who cared about being beautiful, and I didn’t want to live forever without my wife. “Marilyn...give it,” I managed to say.
“Marilyn’s gone, Rick,” Kevin said sharply. “No one’s ever come back if they don’t receive the inhibitor before death.”
I couldn’t let it go—like I let Spense pull me away when Marilyn was alone in the house with Dr. Chatsworth. “Mar—” I couldn’t even get the whole word out. I was choking.
“Marilyn wouldn’t want this, Rick!” Spense was shouting right in my ear, then in Kevin’s face. “Just do it!”
There was a prick in my arm and a rush of coolness in my veins. It swept through my body. It felt a lot like that one time when I had to have my appendix out, and they injected me with iodine to take a CT scan. Except this was cool rather than warm. They had said I would be able to feel it dispersing, and I remember it felt like I had wet myself as it washed through my body.
I rolled over on my back and took a few heaving breaths. Kevin was right. This stuff was fast acting. The haze in my head was clearing, like the smog after a thunderstorm.
“Sorry, man.” Kevin sat back on his knees. “I shouldn’t have gotten the timing wrong like that, but you’ll be fine now—as long as you keep this up.” He got up and reached out a hand to me. Kevin looked happy. It made me think that maybe the guy was lonely. I let him help me unsteadily to my feet. He pointed to the bend in my arm where Marilyn’s bite was—had been. It was already healing, and then, after a moment, it was completely gone. “See there?”
Spense grabbed my arm and peered at it. “Oh. My. God. Kevin—”
What had we been talking about before I turned into a zombie? I let Spense keep badgering Kevin about hooking him up with some serum. It was really a shame that it was me and not Spense who got to become good looking and immortal. The realization slammed into me like the cop who had tackled me in my front hall this morning.
Oh. My. God. I was a zombie now. Kevin had given me the inhibitor. I was going to live. The inhibitor. That’s what we had been talking about. I had been asking why we couldn’t try giving it to Marilyn. Kevin had said that he wouldn’t waste it on her when it wasn’t going to make her normal again.
What if...I flexed my arm where Marilyn’s bite had healed. What if I gave her the inhibitor? Was that even possible? I guess I could wait until tomorrow’s dose and give it to her instead, but who knew what would happen between now and then. She needed it now, and I thought I had a plan.
Did this stuff make you smarter, I wondered? But then, how smart would I be after I got another dose of zombie protein? Because the only way I could see of getting the inhibitor into Marilyn was through my blood.
Would it make Marilyn better? Even though Kevin didn't seem too optimistic, he also said that he hadn't seen a case like hers either. Or would it only make me worse? Then Kevin would have to pop off both our heads. I didn’t want Marilyn to be alone. She hated being alone.
I didn’t think Kevin would like this plan, though. What I needed was a distraction. I scanned the yard looking for something and caught sight of the pool zombie still thrashing about in the shallow end of the pool. I grinned and quickly looked at Kevin to see if he had picked up on my sudden change of mood, but he seemed to be assuming that I was just happy about getting the inhibitor.
He was saying something about how great it was going to be with another dude in the club. Spense knew something was up though. He was disappointed about being left out of the immortality thing, but he was a good guy—the best—so he casually gave me a “what’s up?” look.
I started trying to subtly signal my plan to him, drawing on everything I’d ever learned from Marilyn about acting. Luckily, Spense won the Jackson County charades competition when we were in high school. Charades—it’s the truth, I swear. When I caught his eye, I deliberately flicked my gaze to the pool zombie, then made the tiniest of gestures at Kevin.
Spense raised an eyebrow, not quite getting it—what? I looked from Spense, to Kevin, to the pool zombie again—significantly. Spense cocked his head—are you crazy, man?
Just do it—I glared, then softened my gaze—please. Spense rolled his eyes—okay, okay, I’m on it. He flicked a glance at Kevin and then looked back at me—I’m never going to get the serum now. I hope you’re happy.
Kevin was still going on about all the advantages of being beautiful, strong, and immortal-like.
“Hey, Kevin,” Spense said, nabbing his attention a second before launching himself at Kevin with a roar. He had his head down and his shoulders squared and he rammed Kevin on the right side, pushing him towards the edge of the pool. I don’t think Spense would have been able to move him if Kevin hadn’t been so surprised. They both fell into the pool.
I don’t care if you are an immortal zombie; everyone has trouble getting out of the pool.
I thought I had a good couple of minutes, but I didn’t want to be stopped. I picked up one of the empties on the table by its neck and slammed it against the side, like I was about to start a dirty bar fight in a western. The bottle smashed into pieces—not neat pieces like they do in the movies. Who knew that was some kind of special effects trick? I fished out one of the larger pieces and, closing my eyes, slashed it down my arm.
Marilyn hadn’t moved during all the commotion, but as I approached her with blood dribbling out of my arm, she perked up and even sat up a little.
“Hey, babe.” I waved my bloody arm under her nose. “How do you like this?” I let out a little yelp as she clamped onto my arm. I might be super human now, but stuff still hurt. “That’s it,” I encouraged her. She even let me stroke her hair. Her attention was focused solely on licking up the blood.
Every now and then she would nip at me, but mostly she just seemed interested in drinking my blood. It crossed my mind that it seemed more like a vampire thing than a zombie thing, but whatever.
Spense was still getting in Kevin’s way, pulling on his legs as he tried to get to the side of the pool. They were buffeted by all the lawn furniture floating in the water, churned up by their struggles.
And then the pool zombie got into the mix.
“Ahhh,” Spense shrieked, trying to keep hold of Kevin while staying out of the pool zombie’s reach. I think he knew that Kevin wouldn’t be so giving with the inhibitor if he were bitten.
Kevin grasped Spense by the shoulders and tried to launch him toward the pool zombie. But things must be pretty slippery in the pool, because Spense wiggled out of Kevin’s grip and clambered over him, using Kevin’s shoulders like a stepping stool and dropping in behind him. He latched onto Kevin’s neck from behind and clung like a rhesus monkey.
“Get away. Shoo. Pool Zombie.”
I winced as Marilyn took a long pull from my sliced up arm. The red-hot pain made me flinch, and I jerked my arm away. Marilyn licked her lips, and in a deliberate move she slowly raised her hands and curled them around my bicep. It wasn’t manic. It was purposeful. Dexterous even, all things considered. She gently tugged, bringing my arm back to her mouth.
I brushed my hand over her hair. It was messy and tangled, with bits of grass caught in the strands. But it was so soft. “I love you, Marilyn.”
Her eyes lifted to mine. And there, behind the demented zeal for my blood, it looked like her. Marilyn. The girl I’d had a crush on since I was 13 and who for some reason seemed to feel the same way about me. The skin around her eyes crinkled in that way that I loved. It meant she was happy. She was always so worried about her smile lines. But I thought they were a sign we were doing things right.
Marilyn brushed her thumb against my
skin, and I could have sworn her bite lessened. Into something closer to a kiss. Albeit with teeth. The whole thing made me light-headed. My knees trembled, and I was glad I was already kneeling on the ground.
And then Spense started screaming. It kinda spoiled the moment.
I looked up and saw that Kevin had started swimming toward the pool zombie. With Spense still clinging to his back.
Spense fought against Kevin’s grip and dove away. He backstroked toward the other end of the pool as Kevin carefully approached the thrashing zombie. Being a surfer and all, I shouldn’t have been surprised at how mobile Kevin was in the water. He kicked at the pool zombie, spinning its snapping jaws away from him, and then lunged, grabbing the thing by its head. Kevin’s weight dunked the thing under the water, and I could see the surfer’s shins on the zombie’s shoulders. Kevin yanked.
Pop.
A red stain spread across the water.
“I’d get out of the water if I were you,” Kevin warned. Spense didn’t need to hear it twice. He made a beeline for the pool steps while Kevin freestyled his way to the ladder.
They hauled themselves over the lip of the pool at the same time, their bodies wetly smacking against the pool tiles. Kevin easily sprang to his feet while Spense rolled onto his back, coughing up pool water and sucking in air. Both were soaked.
Kevin’s board shorts might be water resistant but his cotton shirt was saturated. It released streams of water, which trailed down his legs and puddled around his bare feet. He must have lost his flip-flops in the pool.
He stood, his eyes clearly taking in me, my blood, and Marilyn. He yanked his t-shirt over his head and threw it to the ground. It landed with a wet splat on the patio tiles. He looked pretty miffed.
“This hasn’t solved anything, Rick. There’s not enough inhibitor for the both of you. She’s probably still contagious. And if that’s the case, then I won’t wait. Not for a second. I’ll rip off her head to keep her from spreading this.” He gestured behind him, to the now headless zombie bobbing in the deep end. “Same goes for you.”
A chill spread through me at his words. It traveled from my face and neck down through my torso, radiating quickly to my legs and hands. I couldn’t tell if it was fear or blood loss. Probably both.
Spense was making a racket by the pool edge. He alternated between coughing and spitting, trying to get all of the pool water out of his mouth. “Can you just,” he paused for more spitting, “give them some more inhibitor?” He’d managed to raise himself from the tiles. Hunching over, he checked himself for zombie bites.
“I don’t carry around a crate of the stuff,” Kevin answered.
I thought that seemed pretty careless when you had to take the stuff to keep from turning into a manic shambling zombie thing.
Spense lumbered to his feet and dragged himself over to Kevin, “—must be something else we can do.” He shoved his hands through his wet hair, slicking it away from his face but making it stick up in odd patches. He was still fighting for us. Marilyn and me.
Kevin took a menacing step forward and starting poking his finger in Spense’s face, but my buddy didn’t back down. If anything he pushed forward, getting right up in Kevin’s space.
After yelling something at Kevin, Spense shot a furtive glance at me. I could see the worry in his eyes. I tried to nod. To tell him that everything was going to be okay. That this was the plan. That this was working.
He looked like he wasn’t so certain.
Maybe I wasn’t either.
I think that’s when my body started shaking.
The night breeze was so cold. It cut through my clothing, making my teeth rattle. I looked down to see if Marilyn could feel it too.
But her skin looked warm, pink even. A flush reddened her cheeks. She blinked up at me, her gaze clearing. Letting go of my arm, she used the back of her hand to wipe away a smear of blood from her mouth. She looked a little confused as she licked her fingers clean.
I tried to speak, but my tongue was heavy and thick in my mouth. It refused to wrap itself around any of the words that I still knew. The ones that I wanted to say to her.
I knew what was happening. I’d gone way past the point when I should have stopped her. But that was my choice. I knew that I’d given away most of the inhibitor and that I’d probably end up a pool zombie. And that Marilyn still might too. But I couldn’t have lived with myself, spending the rest of eternity surfing with Kevin, if I hadn’t tried something. It might not be good enough. I might not be good enough. But now I knew that I’d never stop trying.
The edges of my vision began to darken. Marilyn leaned toward me, scooting to the edge of the pool lounger. “Rick?” she said, concern shading her voice. She reached out her hand and interlaced our fingers.
I pressed a kiss to our joined hands and felt her squeeze my fingers. They were so warm and solid. My hand shook but I didn’t let go. Had this actually worked? Maybe Marilyn might make it through this.
I continued to hold onto Marilyn as my vision dimmed. It felt like I was only seeing through a pinprick now, but it was all her. If I have to die, I thought, this wasn’t so bad.
...
“Rick.” Marilyn’s voice. It was slight, hoarse from misuse. But it was her.
Marilyn.
She pulled me close. Our joined hands rested in her lap, brushing against the steak discarded on her knees. I glanced down at the chewed edges and then up into Marilyn’s eyes.
Marilyn.
My Marilyn.
She smiled down at me, and it reached all the way to her eyes, crinkling the delicate skin at the corners.
I grinned back at her.
I couldn't help myself.
Looking up at my wife, and then down into her lap, I could tell that she and I were thinking the same thing. That steak sure looked mighty tasty.
Epilogue
Spense here. I’ll save you the suspense—Rick’s okay. I mean, he died, but he’s okay. His vocab isn’t what it was when he made an 800 on the SAT in high school, so I’m going to finish up his story.
After Rick died, Kevin had to book it back to Baja. He’d given all of the inhibitor he had to Rick and Marilyn, and we know what happens when you miss that. He was pretty angry when he finally got away from the pool zombie. I wasn’t sure whether he was going to be in a mood to pop heads when he got back, or whether he’d have cooled off enough to keep giving Rick and Marilyn the inhibitor.
I knew he’d have to come back to deal with the business of the doctor’s miracle serum. So I thought I might be able to generate some good will for my buddy if I took care of it. Nothing easier. I just put it out on the spa grapevine that Chatsworth’s party had been raided by some overzealous FDA agents. They wanted to ask him some questions about his “miracle,” but he had unexpectedly relocated his practice—to a country without an extradition treaty to the US. Then I started a nice side business in supplying a faux version of his miracle serum to the disappointed customers. They never saw the stuff before, so I just got my esthetician, Margo, to mix me up something with plenty of antioxidants and some pomegranate—I love the way that stuff smells.
It doesn’t hurt anyone, and I use the money to take care of Rick and Marilyn. Plus, Kevin was so happy he didn’t have to do anything when he got back that he keeps Rick and Marilyn supplied with inhibitor. So long as I look after them and make sure they don’t bite anyone. It’s not a big deal. They only seem interested in biting each other. Luckily, they heal super fast.
I still haven’t given up on getting some serum for myself. I even talked Kevin into some surfing lessons—man loves some surfing. I better get some of that serum. Salt water is killer on the skin.
The Earl and The Electric Venus
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About the Author
Samantha McCabe is the pen name for two writers who love tacos, rice crispy treats, Gothic heroes, and stories that start with spies.
Dead Sexy started as a joint writing exercise and proves that they are “finishers” as well as “beginners.” Who would have thought that a magazine photo of Johnny Depp in a fedora would incite our crazy tale of shady dermatologists, beautiful zombies, and bromancy high jinx?
One of the writers, Mac, is a graphic artist who designed the awesome Dead Sexy cover. The other writer, Sam, has a PhD in English and is therefore highly qualified to write popular fiction about zombies.
For their next trick, Sam and Mac are working on a series of regency novellas about ladies who use their sciency smarts to make all of their dreams come true.
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