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“Some of you may be angered by the passing of this person. You think it’s a dirty trick. You think, ‘Noooo, they weren’t supposed to die! There were much better choices for who should have died instead!’” The reverend lowered his head. “I agree with you. This is not a satisfying death by any stretch of the imagination, and if an author ever turned this life into a book and killed this person off at this point, I would throw the book against the wall and never read anything else by that author for the rest of my life. Why do authors feel the need to kill off characters we like? It’s as if they’re thinking, ‘Oooh! Oooh! Look at me! I’m so dangerous that I can kill off a character and basically spit in your face for having an emotional investment in them!’”

“Hear, hear!” said a sad person in the front row.

Somebody threw themselves onto the casket and sobbed and screamed, “It’s just not fair!” while pounding on the lid. Everybody kept crying for a long time.

Three months ago...

I stared at Kelley, whose name I thought was Kaylie, from across the hallway. I knew I could spend the rest of my life with her, if she’d let me. She was beautiful, smart.and unattainable. I could never have somebody like her. I was best suited for the kinds of girls who only liked you because you could borrow your mom’s car sometimes.

“Go say something,” Adam urged.

“She’d never talk to me.”

“Of course she will. She may not say anything positive, but she won’t pretend you don’t exist. Go on. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“She could knife me.”

“She’s not going to knife you. Worst-case scenario, she tasers you. Isn’t the risk of being tasered worth the chance to talk to her, even if it makes you pee in front of everybody?”

“No. Nothing is worth public peeing.”

“Fair enough, but let’s be real. She’s not going to whip out a taser. The real worst-case scenario is that it’s a little awkward

and then you move on with your life. Do you know anybody whose social life was destroyed because they talked to a girl who wasn’t interested?”

“Yes. Hector.”

“Hector doesn’t count. He asked a cheerleader to floss him. You’re not going to say anything disturbing, so you’ll be fine. I promise.”

I took a deep breath. Adam was right. The benefits far outweighed the risks.

I walked across the hallway. She closed her locker, saw me, and smiled.

“Hi,” I said. “I’m Tyler.”

One hundred and thirty-seven years later, in a future where humankind has finally learned the dangers of making technology too cool...

“All hail the robots!” shouted Human #9,213,671.

“Hail!” shouted the crowd.

“Who controls our every move with kindness and respect?”

“The robots!”

“Who disintegrates only those who deserve it?”

“The robots!”

“Who will we overthrow?”

“The robots!” shouted Human #3,008,502. He slammed his hand over his mouth as he realized that it was a trick question. An instant later, a giant green laser disintegrated him.

“All hail the robots!”

“All hail the robots!”

One hundred and thirty-six years and nine months earlier...

A gunshot rang out.

Kelley cried out and fell to the ground, clutching her thigh.

My fear was replaced by anger. Nobody shoots my girlfriend! Especially not after I just saved her.

“Go! Go! Get in the cab!” Adam told me, reaching down to take Kelley by the arm. “I’ve got this!”

I appreciated his selfless gesture, but no. I’m not trying to imply that I wouldn’t care if I got shot, but I was going to do everything I could to make sure Kelley didn’t get shot a second time.

As we pulled her to her feet, I saw a long red streak across her outer thigh. It didn’t look that bad. I mean, by the standards of a teenage girl’s average daily life, which didn’t usually include gunshot wounds, it was a big deal, but by the standards of this evening, I’d seen much worse than a bullet ripping across somebody’s leg.

After today, everything would be easy. Pop quiz? Hey, not as bad as having five thugs point guns at you! Grounded for a week? Could be worse, like losing body parts! Can’t get a date for the prom? Quit whining and happily think about the fact that you aren’t currently having a pizza cutter applied to your chest! My life was nothing but ease and relaxation from now on.

Glenn fired again. I’m not sure what he hit, if anything, but it wasn’t any of our bodies.

Kelley was hurt, but she could hop just fine, and we got her into the back of the cab. I scooted in after her, and Adam scooted in after me, shutting the door behind him.

“Somebody needs to drive,” I told him.

“Oh yeah.”

Adam crawled over us, only jostling two of our injured areas in the process, and then got out on the side of the cab that was safer from bullets. He got in the driver’s side and adjusted the rearview mirror, and then we sped off.

We’d done it! We weren’t in top-notch physical condition, but three out of three of us were still alive! That was a passing score!

“It’s not that bad,” I told Kelley, inspecting her wound. “It’s just like a cat scratch, except maybe one where the cat’s claws are the size of, I don’t know, a dinosaur tooth. You’ll need stitches, but we’ll get matching stitches. That’ll be neat. Are you going into shock?”

“Not yet.”

“Do you need to go to the hospital before we take care of the doll?”

Kelley violently shook her head. “Absolutely not. After all we’ve been through, there’s no way we’re not going to solve the problem we came out here to fix. I’ll be fine.”

“I feel kind of bad that I’m the only one not seriously hurt,” said Adam. “Only the pizza cutter, which wasn’t as bad as you’d think. It’s almost like I should stab myself in the knee or something.”

“Be my guest,” I said.

“After the car is stopped,” Kelley clarified.

“Do you think the cops are looking for us?” Adam asked.

“I assume so.”

“Do you think they’re going to be mad?”

“Probably. Still, I think we’re okay. There’s a lot of stuff that’s going to be really difficult to explain, but it still comes down to belief in the supernatural, which I don’t think we’re going to get from the police. And if they don’t believe the voodoo element, then we haven’t committed any crimes.”

“We just stole a taxi,” Adam said.

“Shut up,” I said, “Even with all of the bizarre stuff that’s happened, if we get rid of the doll, there’s no proof of anything supernatural, right?”

“Except Zombie Click in the sewer,” said Kelley.

“Dammit!”

“Can that be traced back to us?” Adam asked.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m sure it can,” I said, “but it’s not against the law to dump a zombie into the sewer. He was trying to strangle you. When a dead guy tries to strangle you, you throw him down a manhole, right?”

“Right, but we weren’t talking about whether it’s legal to do that; we were talking about evidence of the supernatural. I mean, I guess they could rule that he was alive all along and it was a clerical error.”

“You know what, maybe he’ll never be found,” I said. “If I’m a cop and a dead teacher disappears from the morgue, I’m not going to say, ‘Let’s search the sewer!’ How hard will they even look? If a dead body disappears, do you put out an

APB, or do you just sort of, I don’t know, check the closets and move on?”

“I think they’d look pretty hard for a missing cadaver.” “Why?”