As Alan took a few whiffs from the bottle it hit him that the stench of the undead didn’t bother him any more, even when his sense of smell was rekindled by a pleasant odor. The renewed appreciation for scent made him hungrier, and he ate a can of peas. Then a can of baked beans, including the disgusting wad of pork. Staring at his work in progress, he sat down on his couch and noticed he’d only given Mona four toes on each foot, like some cartoon character.
“That’s stupid,” he muttered as he slipped into dreamless slumber.
“We should get a generator,” Eddie said as he toyed with the fishing reel. “I mean, it’s not gonna be summer forever. Nobody took my car-boosting idea serious, but if Mona can drive, she should take a car, you know, find a Hummer and snag us some gennies. I could teach her how to siphon gas. Maybe seeing that would plant some thoughts in her head.” He grinned smuttily, arching his eyebrows in case Dave didn’t pick up the innuendo. Dave frowned. “Anyway,” Eddie continued, “It’d be sweet to get some power going. Maybe some AC, for a change.”
Dave nodded. “Yeah, that’d be cool. But you couldn’t keep the whole building chilled.”
“So we get everyone in one apartment and crank it. A sleepover.”
“A sleepover. Because I know how much you love hanging with the others in here,” Dave scowled. “But, yeah, I see where you’re coming from.”
“For real, right? The people in this dump, they got no vision. Okay, I admit it; I’m not so book smart, but I got life smarts. These pampered Upper East Side homos would just shrivel up an’ die if Mona hadn’t come along.”
“So would you and me,” Dave interjected.
“Yeah, but not without a fight. They’d of gone out like babies, all curled up in a fetal position. If I knew for sure my number was up I’d of gone downstairs, outside, and taken a few of those fuckers out, mano à mano. If Mona doesn’t drive, I could teach ’er. Maybe she could snag a laptop and one of them driving simulators.”
“No such thing.”
“For real? But they’ve got flight simulator games.”
“No cars, though.”
“That’s retarded. Five zillion driving games, but none that teach actual driving?”
“None that I ever heard of.”
“Wow, that makes no sense.”
“Would you have played one?” Dave asked.
“Fuck no. I only like shooters.” Eddie dropped the fishing rig on the floor and got up. “I’m gonna go talk to Ms. Vegetable-matter.” On his way to the door he picked up a blister pack and popped a pink pill.
“You really shouldn’t do that,” Dave said.
“Fuck you, Mom. And anyway, these pills don’t do shit.”
“Maybe they’re placebos.”
“Maybe they’re female shit and I’m gonna sprout some tits. Time will tell, bro, but in the meantime I plan on testing the waters a bit longer.”
“Yeah, well when you start menstruating, drop the regimen.”
Eddie laughed as he sailed out the door, letting it slam as he tromped downstairs. When he arrived at Mona’s door he affected a more sedate demeanor and then knocked. After a few gentle raps he pounded the side of his fist on the door. Fuckin’ bitch was probably listening to her death metal or whatever it was. How could anyone listen to that noise? He tried the doorknob to no avail, rattling it in frustration. Oh come on, he thought. After several more thuds the door opened a crack, held that way by the chain, and Mona greeted him with a dull stare, her earbuds draped around her shoulders. If this chick had tits, Eddie started thinking, then stifled the notion. He was here on a different kind of business.
“Sup?” he said, flashing her his most winning smile.
“Nothing,” she replied.
“Can I talk to you about something?”
“Uh-huh.” She undid the chain and opened the door the whole way, ushering Eddie in. As he stepped past her he took in their disparity in size, he standing at least a foot taller than she.
“What are you,” he began, “like maybe five one or something?”
“Five two.”
“Wow. It’s so fuckin’ weird that a tiny chick like you-no offense-can just truck around town with all those zombies and a big guy like me can’t. I can’t figure it out.”
“Uh-huh.”
I’ll “uh-huh” you, you fuckin’… No, no. Stow that shit. Make nice. “So, okay, what I was thinking was this: you’re always going out on these errands, right? And the most you can carry is what you can pile in a shopping cart. So that limits what you can score. So maybe, I dunno if you can drive, but maybe you could make the most of your trips out there in the world, if you drove a truck or Hummer or something. Even a Mini Cooper. Anything.”
“Can’t.”
“I could teach you.”
“They have to sense me.”
“Huh?”
“In a car they can’t sense me so they don’t disperse.”
Eddie was doubly stunned. Not only had she answered his question but also it was a complete sentence and it made sense. Sense. The senses. Eddie didn’t even think about that before. The zombies still had senses, even if they were a bunch of rotting brain-dead skinbags.
“Sense,” he repeated. “Like maybe you give off a stink-no offense-that those pusbags can’t abide. Wicked. Like because maybe you…” Eddie cut himself off before he tipped his hand. He didn’t want her to know he’d filched those pills. But this was the lynchpin. This was it. He felt sure. The pills. The quantity. She’d been megadosing those pills and it made her immune to attack. Oh, this sly bitch. And she didn’t want to share. He’d tell the others and they’d flip. All those smarty-pants. Should he tell them? Yeah, because then they could decide what to do. He didn’t want to flat out accuse her, but if they were all on the same page, like a committee, then they could move as a unit. That was strategy. He felt like he did when he was playing hockey. Strategy was never his strong suit, at least not formulating it, but he had some dope-literally and figuratively-that the others didn’t. He’d present his findings and they’d take it from there.
“I tried driving once. They tipped the car over.” Her dull face actually betrayed a trace of anxiety. She didn’t like the memory. “Never again.”
“That’s really interesting,” Eddie said with unaccustomed sincerity. She was a waste case, all right, but she was human. “Listen, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just thought maybe it was a good idea about the car and all. Sorry. I’ll leave you alone, a’right?” She nodded and Eddie let himself out, grinning as he turned his back on her, feeling smarter than everyone else in the joint. It was cool knowing something no one else did. And he got it out of her. He did.
Suck on that, you faggots.
part three
32
“It would be a total betrayal,” Ellen said, rubbing her abdomen, phantom kicks pummeling her innards. “We shouldn’t, and you had no right to do what you did. My God, if she discovered what you did it could mean the end of everything we’ve got.”