Best New Zombie Tales: Vol. 1 Part 2

Luanne squeezed his upper arm and whispered, "Two minutes, no more. I'm going back upstairs to make sure Dad doesn't come down here, but I can't make any promises. If he catches you, remember what we agreedyou tell him you found the back door unlocked and you came in on your own, and I didn't have anything to do with it. When you're done, just go out the way we came in."

Kirk nodded and tried to say "Thank you," but his voice failed him and he only mouthed the words. Luanne's footsteps faded as she went back up the stairs.

He pulled the sheet back and left it in a heap at her feet, then stared down at her for a long moment. She did not look real.

Last summer, Kirk's family had gone to San Francisco for a weekend, and Natalie had come along. They'd gone to the wax museum at Fisherman's Wharf and had ooohed and aaahed at the lifelike figures that stood behind gla.s.s in the museum. Natalie looked like one of them nowa meticulously crafted wax figure with a grayish-yellow hue. It did not look like the body Kirk had held so many times, the face and neck and b.r.e.a.s.t.s he'd kissed, the silky skin he'd stroked.

Her full lips had become thin and gray, with a hint of purple. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s looked deflated and lay flat on her chest, like nippled pancakes of empty flesh. There was an ugly gash on her forehead above her right brow, and another on her right shoulder. A dark maroon bruise had blossomed on her right side, just below her breast. She looked surprisingly good considering the drunk had slammed into her doorthe injuries that had killed her were internal.

Heart pounding, breath short, Kirk wasted no time. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and removed a small baby-food jar half-filled with a gray paste Mrs. Kobylka had made.

"Dip your finger in," she had told him. In the fluorescent light of her kitchen, she'd been a color quite similar to Natalie's. "Make an X over her heart. Then say these words three times." Den thay dethe verdth tree times. She had written out the words phonetically on a Post-It note, then spoke them once, slowly, folded the square of yellow paper over and handed it to him.

Kirk removed the lid from the baby-food jar and got a whiff of the paste insidea mixture of a licorice-like odor and a foul cheesy smell, as well as others he couldn't identify. He wrinkled his nose as he dipped his right index finger into the paste. His hand, finger extended, hovered over Natalie's chest for a moment, then he drew an X slightly left of her sternum. Her flesh was cold and no longer felt like flesh. Instead of the soft, supple skin he was accustomed to, it felt papery and ungiving. He thought again of the wax figures in the museum.

He quickly rubbed the excess paste off his finger onto the edge of the jar's mouth, then replaced the lid and stuffed it back into his pocket. At the same time, he reached into the other pocket for the Post-It. He looked at the eight nonsense syllables on the paper: Zin-bra show-tik mah-fu low-rem. They meant nothing to him, but he did not care. He said them just above a whisper, three times.

Natalie's black hair made her large, pale-turquoise eyes stand out above her high cheekbones. Kirk often stared into them for long minutes, unable to look away.

"You're staring again," she said once as they lay on their sides facing each other. They were on a towel on the sh.o.r.e of Whiskeytown Lake.

"Sorry. But... do you have any idea how beautiful your eyes are?"

"Do you have any idea how unnerving that is?" she said with a laugh. "Besides, my parents could come over here anytime. They'll see you undressing me with your eyes and you'll embarra.s.s me."

But the truth was, Natalie did not embarra.s.s easily. She had a laugh that was pleasant but loud and could be heard through-out the school's cafeteria at lunchtime. It was a laugh that turned heads, but she didn't care, not a bit. And when it came to s.e.x she had no shame; she wanted it when she wanted it, and as a result, they'd had s.e.x in some risky places. The riskier the better, as far as Natalie was concerned. They'd done it a few times in Natalie's bedroom while her parents were downstairs in the living room watching television, and Kirk wasn't sure if the door had been locked. Once on her living room floor in front of the television while her parents were in bed. Several times in the navy-blue Volkswagen Jetta her parents had given her for her sixteenth birthday, while it was parked in some public placesa couple times in the school parking lot, once in the parking lot of the Mt. Shasta Mall, once in the parking lot of the Cinemark Movies 10, all in broad daylight. Twice, she had come to his bedroom window in the middle of the nighthe'd always left it open and she'd climbed in and they'd made love in his bed while his parents slept two doors down. She'd wanted him to come to her room at night, but it was on the second floor of her house, unreachable without a ladder, and Kirk wasn't that daring. Their closest call had been in one of the janitor's utility closets at school. The janitor, Mr. Edgerly, had been approaching the closet when they came out, and he'd given them his most threatening glare, but had said nothing. Kirk was always against it at first, always worried about getting caught. But Natalie always said, "C'mon, let's do it here, it'll be exciting." He couldn't say no to her when she looked into his eyes and smiled. He couldn't say no to her, period.

But he should have said something when she didn't put on her seatbelt last night. He should have noticed and told her to fasten it, should have refused to put the car in gear until she'd done it.

Should-haves ate at his guts like acid.

Natalie opened her eyes.

Kirk stepped back and sucked in a loud gasp. He dropped the Post-It note and it fluttered to the floor. His heart pounded in his ears and he breathed loudly through his mouth.

He had not expected it to work, not really. Although he'd grown up believing Mrs. Kobylka to be a witch, a voice in the back of his mindthe same voice that had told him there was no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny when he was a kidhad told him she was just a weird old woman who'd decided to have a little fun with him. As much as he wanted it, that voice had not allowed him to truly believe Mrs. Kobylka's spell would work.

Natalie slowly, clumsily rolled onto her side, swung her legs over the edge of the table, and sat up. Her back, b.u.t.tocks, and the backs of her legs were a dark purple where blood had settled in her body. Her eyes moved from side to side, up and down, as she looked around the room. They did not look the samethe sparkle was gone from them, they looked dulled, their bright turquoise paled, diluted. And they did not blink. Her movements were stiff and awkward and she did not turn her head. There was a stiffness to her face and the corners of her mouth were pulled back slightly in a frozen grimace. She did not make a sound, did not even breathe.

"Nat?" Kirk whispered.

She made a small clicking sound in her throat as she tried unsuccessfully to speak.

Kirk took the sheet from the table and draped it over her shoulders, then helped her to her feet. He wrapped her in the sheet and put an arm around her. She felt cold through the cotton. "Come on, let's get out of here," he whispered. Before leaving the bas.e.m.e.nt, he bent down and grabbed the yellow Post-It note off the floor.

- TWO -.

It had stopped raining shortly before Kirk entered the funeral home. Natalie's bare feet slapped the wet sidewalk as she walked stiffly beside him, wrapped in the sheet, stumbling now and then. Her arms did not move at her sides and she did not bend her knees as she walked, and the only sound she made was a small gurgle in her throat. She appeared to be unable to move her mouth and her neck remained stiff. Kirk was still reeling from the fact that she'd sat up on the bed, that she had walked out of the funeral home with him, but he was starting to become concerned about her condition.

Kirk could hear Randy and Liz inside the Focus well before he got there. Liz screamed when she saw Natalie, then babbled loudly, while Randy sat behind the wheel with bulging eyes repeating something over and over.

Kirk opened the back door on the pa.s.senger side and said to Natalie, "Get in, honey, get in."

"Holy s.h.i.t!" Randy said.

Natalie had difficulty bending, but finally fell into the car and bent her knees with effort.

Liz was crying as she babbled. "my G.o.d, I can't believe this, I can't f.u.c.king believe it, oh my G.o.d, this isn't real, this isn't happening!"

"Holy s.h.i.t!" Randy said.

Kirk persuaded Natalie to scoot over. He got into the car beside her and pulled the door shut. "Let's get out of here," he said.

"Holy s.h.i.t! Holy s.h.i.t!"

"Oh, Jesus," Liz said, turned around in her seat so she could gape at Natalie, "this can't be real, this is so f.u.c.ked up, oh G.o.d, I can't believe"

Kirk said, "Randy, get us out of here before someone sees us. And let's roll down all the windows."

Randy continued to mutter, "Holy s.h.i.t,ter, " to himself as he started the car and put it in gear. The radio came on loudly, startling all of them, and he turned it off.

Liz knelt in her seat, clutching the back of it as she gawked at Natalie. "Jesus, is that really her? Nat? Is it you, Nat?"

"Just go, dammit," Kirk said. "And sit down and put on your seatbelt, Liz." He bent over Natalie and pulled the belt across her, buckled her in, then fastened his own.

Liz reluctantly turned around in her seat and put on her belt.

Randy pulled away from the curb, made a U-turn, and drove away from the funeral home. His wide eyes flashed in the rearview mirror as he glanced repeatedly at Natalie's reflection.

"Holy s.h.i.t," Randy said again, his voice a dry rasp. "She's not bleeding, is she? My mom'll kill me if I get blood in her car."

"Just drive, Randy," Kirk said. "Everything's fine."

With her head craned around, Liz stared at Natalie. "No-body's gonna believe this. I can't believe it, and I'm seeing it."

"Well, we're not going to tell anyone, are we, Liz?" Kirk said.

Randy said, "Don't you think Luanne's dad is gonna wonder what happened to her? Even Luanne will wonder. She'll think you took her. I mean, they're not gonna think Natalie just got up and walked out. Even though... she did."

"What time is it?" Kirk said.

"She doesn't blink," Liz said.

"What time is it," Kirk asked again.

"She doesn't f.u.c.king blink, that's so creepy." She glanced at her watch. "It's about ten minutes after eleven."

"Okay," Kirk said, "my parents are in bed by now."

"Are you sure they aren't up wondering where you are?" Randy asked.

"I told them I'd be out late, and they were cool about it." Kirk turned to Natalie. She sat rigidly and stared at the back of Randy's head. He put a hand on her shoulder and said, "Nat? Natalie?"

Her mouth was still drawn back in a grimace. She made another gurgling sound in her throat, but did not move.

"She's not gonna be sick, is she?" Randy said. "My mom'll kill me"

"Stop worrying about your mom," Kirk said. "Everything's going to be fine. She's just... well, maybe she's confused." He turned to her again. "Natalie? Look at me."

Still no movement. She stopped making the sound.

Kirk touched her chin to turn her head, but jerked his hand away. She felt so cold, so... wrong. There was tension in her facial muscles that he could feel when he touched her. He tried again and did not pull away the second time. But he could not turn her head. He closed his hand gently on her right arm beneath the sheet and tried to move it, but could not. She was like a block of solid ice.

"Oh, Jesus," Kirk said.

Liz looked over her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Kirk shook his head. "I'm not sure, she's not... I can't... I think she's frozen."

"Is she... well, did she... die again?" Randy said.

Kirk unfastened his seatbelt and got close to Natalie, put his face in front of hers. The faint ghost of her perfume still clung to her, but there was another smell beneath that. Something... dark. "Natalie, can you hear me?"

She grunted once, but her face was frozen, a grimacing mask. Her eyes did not move in their sockets.

"She's responding," Kirk said, "but she can't move."

"Oh, my G.o.d," Liz said.

Kirk got back in his seat, fastened the belt. "What?"

"You know what this is?" she said. "It's rigor mortis."

Kirk said, "But she's not dead anymore."

Liz turned in her seat, craned her head around to look at him. "Are you sure?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did Mrs. Kobylka say she was going to bring Natalie back to life?" Liz said. "Or did she just say she was going to bring her back?"

"What the h.e.l.l's the difference?" Randy said.

"Oh, s.h.i.t," Kirk muttered as realization set in. "You mean she might... still be dead."

Randy raised his voice. "What?"

Liz began to cry again. "Oh, G.o.d, this is so f.u.c.ked up. I can't believe this. I wanna go home."

"What the f.u.c.k're you talking about?" Randy said.

Wiping her eyes with a knuckle, Liz said, "There's a big difference between a living person and a dead person who's been, like, I don't know... reanimated." She laughed nervously. "Listen to me. I can't believe I just said that."

"Reanimated?" Randy said. Eyes wide, he glanced back and forth between the road and Liz. "f.u.c.k, man. I saw that movie."

"Pay attention to the road, Randy," Kirk said. He looked at Natalie.

She remained motionless, and made another small grunting sound, as if she were gagging.

"How long does rigor mortis last?" Kirk said.

"I hope you're not asking me," Randy said.

Liz said, "I don't know."

"Do you have your laptop?" Kirk asked.

"Yeah."

"Look it up."

"Are you insane? I'm sitting in a car with a walking dead person and you want me to surf the Web? We should be on the web, people would pay to see this s.h.i.t."

"Please, Liz."

She brought her backpack up off the floorboard and into her lap. "Isn't Rigor Mortis the name of a band? I'm probably gonna find a bunch of metalhead bulletin boards."

Randy killed the headlights before pulling into the circular driveway in front of the Mundy's ranch-style house. Kirk unfastened his seatbelt and bent forward.

"Did you find anything yet?" he said.

Liz snapped at him. "Gimme a break, Kirk, I just started looking a few minutes ago."

Kirk and Randy got out of the car and met at the rear door on the driver's side, Natalie's door. Kirk opened it. He and Randy whispered to each other.

"Help me carry her into the back," Kirk said.

Randy nervously rubbed his hands on the front of his denim jacket as if wiping something sticky off them. He winced and said, "Look, dude, I'm not sure I wanna... y'know... touch her."

"But she can't walk."

"I know, man, she can't walk because she's dead, which is why I don't wanna touch her."

"She walked to the car with me, you saw her," Kirk said. "Come on, she's wrapped in a sheet so you don't have to touch heroh, nevermind."

Kirk slid his right arm behind her shoulders, his left beneath her legs and lifted her out of the car. She remained frozen in a sitting position.

Randy said, "She looks like a Barcalounger." He followed as Kirk carried her past the garage and into the back yard. They walked around the covered concrete swimming pool and Kirk carried her into the small pool-house. He fumbled for the light, switched it on.